In the Light of Day (Season 5, Episode 8)
by bionic4ever
Summary: (Season 5, Episode 8) Steve faces grave danger overseas while at home, a mysterious illness has befallen Jaime... and their daughter's life is threatened by someone they've known and trusted. Thanks to the members of The Bionic Project. See my profile for a link and stop by for a visit today!
1. Prologue

**In the Light of Day** - Season 5,Episode 8

Prologue

In the light of day things often look very different from the way we we'd been sure we knew them when darkness overtook us. It was that way for Steve and Oscar, whose trust and respect for Mark Conrad grew (at least a little bit) when they saw how he could still calm and 'level' Jaime, on the night when they'd all begun to settle their differences.

''I don't know _how_ you did that,'' Steve marveled to Mark as he walked the men to their cars.

Mark was puzzled. He'd had very little to do with what had happened between everyone, other than to simply sit and listen. ''Did what?'' he asked.

Steve grinned. ''I've known that lady in there for most of my life. Don't think I've ever seen anyone cool her temper - or that mouth - in one single sentence before. Lord knows I've done my share of trying!''

It happened for Jaime, too, in developing at least some measure of trust in Oscar. At the very least, the sight (or even the mere thought) of him no longer sent her into a rage. She'd managed to resign herself to Oscar's being a necessary presence in their lives - in Steve's, of course, but in her own, as well. In fact, now that she was about to take the track at the new National site at over 50 percent power...she looked for him.

''Where's Oscar?'' she puzzled. To Steve, it seemed like she was squinting too much while the sun was behind her, but he had to remind himself that not everyone was blessed with a bionic eye.

''He'll be here,'' Michael promised. ''So let's see what you can do...unless you're stalling.''

''You just watch my dust!'' Jaime no longer had to take a lap walking first or even at warm-up jogging pace. With a salute to her doctors and a kiss blown to her husband, she was off. She rounded the first turn easily, seemed to pause for a moment then kept going (if anything, even faster).

Steve focused in on her face. Instead of smiling with the excitement she'd exuded all morning or the exhilaration of the run, Jaime's brows was furrowed in a look of intense concentration...or pain. ''Something's wrong!'' he told Rudy. He didn't have time to explain further - and Oscar stepped up to join them just in time to see Jaime come to a full stop. Then...she sank to her knees and made no effort to get back up.

''Oh no...oh God...no!'' she cried when the men had reached her. She was shaking her head and blinking rapidly. ''Steve?''

Steve nearly stopped breathing when she called his name. His heart already _knew_ from the way she seemed to be blindly searching for him. ''Sweetheart?'' he began, gathering her into his arms.

''Steve, I..._I can't see_!''


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

''How many fingers am I holding up?'' Michael asked Jaime in the back of the ambulance.

''Four. I - I'm fine now...I think.'' Jaime was trembling violently, badly shaken by the bout of temporary (but total) blindness. Her vision had quite suddenly dimmed as she'd rounded the track - and then everything had gone dark.

Steve sat in the passenger seat (the only spot available, with Michael and Rudy both in the back with Jaime), with his fists clenched. _Marchetti did this to her_, he thought bitterly. He had to fight the urge to pull the young doctor away from his wife - and punch him in the jaw. While Michael's 'treatment' had likely caused whatever was happening to Jaime, he was also the only one who could help reverse it.

''You're not gonna admit me...are you?'' Jaime asked, sitting up and looking around. Her head was still swimming alarmingly...but at least she could see again.

''Just lie back,'' Rudy soothed, as he and Michael gently eased her into a prone position on the gurney. ''We'll decide that after we've had a chance to _thoroughly_ examine you.''

''_Examine me_? Makes me sound like a lab rat! And...I just wanna go home! Please?''

Steve turned around in the seat. ''Sweetheart, _you couldn't see_! Now you're going to let the doctors do what's best - _without arguing_!''

''They can check on me, examine me and test me all they want...at home!'' Jaime retorted. ''I've been away from Becca too much as it is! We both have! And before you say it, no - we're not bringing her back to the hospital just to be with us!'' She sat up again to emphasize her statement.

''Do we need to sedate you?'' Rudy threatened gently.

Jaime sighed...and stretched back out on the gurney.

* * *

Somehow, she had gotten her way. Jaime had convinced the doctors that she could see - which she could. Maybe not well enough to read Becca's favorite storybook...but Jaime reasoned that nearly everyone needed reading glasses eventually. Instead, she sat on the floor in front of her daughter's dollhouse and engaged her with some spirited 'Let's Pretend'.

Steve sat in the rocker and watched his two favorite ladies even more closely than usual. Jaime was smiling, animated - and acting for all the world like she hadn't been completely blinded (however temporary) just that morning. Still, Steve couldn't shake the feeling that something was 'off'.

When the doorbell rang, it took them both by surprise. Rudy and Michael had promised another visit after supper, but that was still hours away. Instead, Oscar waited on the doorstep. He inquired about Jaime's health and the incident that morning while eying her carefully...but there was clearly something else on his mind.

''We have to talk, Pal,'' he finally told Steve. The living room or even the back porch offered no privacy from Jaime's prying bionic ear...so at Steve's suggestion they headed to the basement. He started both the washer and dryer and then stood next to the machines and spoke quietly (hoping to thwart what he knew would be his wife's attempt to listen).

''Oscar, no,'' Steve said quietly but firmly. ''I can't leave her alone; not right now.''

''Listen Pal; our national security is at stake.''

''Yeah, it usually is. Whatever's up, I'd love to help you, but it's not the time since -''

''We can bring back the nurses!'' Jaime called from the top of the stairs. ''It'll be fine!'' Even at just over 50 percent power, she was an excellent - and quite determined - eavesdropper.

''Damn that ear...'' Steve muttered before turning his attention back to arguing with Oscar.

Upstairs, Becca had heard the word 'nurse'. ''Jessy!'' she crowed happily.

''Sweetie, I don't think Jess feels good right now,'' Jaime tried to explain. ''Nurses...yes. I think we'll be having them again. But maybe not Jess..''

''Jessy..._Jessy_!'' Becca began dancing and twirling around the kitchen, singing the name of her favorite nurse.

Jaime knew that Oscar had probably put off calling Steve back into service for as long as he could, giving them a chance to heal as a family, and she was grateful for that. She also knew that even as strongly as she might protest that she was fine, there was no way that Steve would go back to work without the nurses' reassuring presence in their home again. And her doctors would never allow it. In her insistence and determination to return home (and not be admitted to the hospital), Jaime had downplayed the awful way her head was spinning, since it was only once in awhile. So she had to admit to herself now that it wouldn't be safe for her to be here alone with Becca...if Steve was being put to work. From what she'd overheard, as well as from the look on Oscar's face, she guessed that this was the case.

When Steve and Oscar came back upstairs, before they'd even had a chance to say anything, Jaime knew she was right.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

''Rudy, you know I love you,'' Jaime sighed, ''but you're _hovering_!''

Rudy smiled, exchanging a bemused glance with Michael. ''With Steve gone, we don't have his daily insight - and I strongly suspect you don't tell us everything yourself, Honey,'' he told Jaime gently.

''So...'' Michael began, moving his pencil in front of her eyes, ''No more incidents of vision loss or blindness?''

''None. And really - seeing me once a day is enough; you don't have to come twice. Especially since there are nurses here 24/7...''

''And you tell them absolutely everything?'' Rudy prodded.

''Well, everything they need to know, anyhow...''

* * *

Half a world away, there was much that Steve _needed_ to know...and very little that he understood. Hell, he didn't even speak the language! But in this case, it was the English-speakers he had to watch out for! In the meantime, he could get by with mostly gestures and grunts; in fact, it was part of his 'cover'. Some well-placed contacts had managed to get him this job placement - and if what Oscar (and the international 'buzz') believed was true, a deaf-mute was exactly what these people needed and wanted in this position. _**Hear no evil...speak no evil,**_.

He found himself wishing for Jaime's bionic ear...

* * *

Jack Hansen was wishing, too - that he could be anyone _but_ himself. What had happened wasn't his fault; everyone kept telling him that. He just wished he could believe it. He finally allowed himself to at least try to open up to Mark Conrad, even though he'd always said that 'psycho-babble' was for people who couldn't find their own solutions. Well, he couldn't find a solution for this, or even a way to justify it.

''Doctor Corinth _died_; don't even try to tell me there's a way you can 'fix' that!'' he scoffed, pacing across the room and back again.

''You're right,'' Mark confirmed quietly. ''No one can. The loss of such an up-and-coming talent is devastating. Any life lost unnecessarily is.''

''Gosh, that makes me feel so much better! So what's the point in working with you, since it can't change anything?''

''Because it CAN. Or rather - you can. The point is that Anna will go to trial - or plead, if she's smart - and she'll never see the light of day as a free woman again. You, on the other hand, are NOT going to trial. Your life can proceed again...if you let it. The point is, it's time to wake up; the nightmare is over.''

Hansen laughed bitterly. ''Is it really? Are you sure about that? Or is that just what you'd _like_ to think?''

* * *

''So...what do you think?'' Rudy asked. It was now nearly a week since Steve had left on his assignment. Rudy and Michael had suggested, cajoled and finally forced Jaime into another MRI. Now they stood at the lightbox, peering closely at the images, comparing them to her previous tests and searching for even the slightest physical change.

''Jaime's balance and reaction times are 'off','' Michael pondered, ''but there's nothing visible here to account for the change in her condition.''

''None of Anna and Jack's subjects are experiencing these symptoms,'' Rudy added. ''At least, not that we know of.''

''No; it's not the 'treatment' that caused this; the MRIs prove that.''

''Right. But could it be that the other victims suffered changes via a form of hypnosis - albeit a very sophisticated one - while Jaime's brain was damaged by a bullet?''

Michael shook his head. ''When you view my MRIs, you can see the same changes in the 'Before' and 'After' images that you see here in Jaime's.''

''Yes, but let's not forget that her brain cells were completely destroyed and then regenerated. That's got to have some effect. Maybe the impulses you sent into her head behave differently than they did in your own brain or any of the other victims' because these aren't entirely her original brain cells...?''

* * *

''More higher!'' Becca giggled. Jaime gave the swing another careful push, eliciting peals of laughter from the child. She'd learned quickly how to temper her own strength again and felt confident pushing the swing with either hand. For a very short while, she'd resorted to doing everything possible with her left hand only, to avoid hurting Becca or breaking things around the house with an unintended use of too much power. Rudy and Michael had her work with the set of bars in various metals and thicknesses and Jaime had learned control again very quickly. (It was like riding a bicycle for her, really - once learned, it was ingrained deep in her memory and now came to her almost naturally.)

There was only one more 'tune up' needed and then she'd finally be back at her full strength again. Frustratingly, though, Rudy and Michael were dragging their feet, putting it off because of the 'silly little spells' she'd been having. At first, of course, she hadn't mentioned them at all...but the attack of temporary blindness had alerted everyone that there was an issue. As hard as she tried, she couldn't hide what she considered 'the tiniest of wobbles' from Michael. He planned to refer her to an eye doctor, too, if things didn't improve - but she could see just fine! The nurses had ratted her out when she'd purchased a pair of reading glasses and now her doctors were all up in arms, worried when they didn't need to be and searching too hard (in Jaime's opinion) for a problem that simply wasn't there.

Jaime bundled Becca into the stroller and they headed for home with one of their new nurses. Whether it was her preoccupation with other things or whether her eyes were acting up again, she didn't notice Jess sitting on a bench and watching them sadly from the other side of the park.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Steve sighed as he loaded yet another stack of crates onto still another pallet. While it was definitely beneficial to actually have a position in the 'company' being investigated, what he needed to see (and/or hear) was far more likely to be taking place in the factory itself or possibly the offices. In nearly a week of stacking crates on pallets, he still hadn't found time nor an excuse to break away from his work and start investigating. If there was any sort of international espionage and arms manufacturing going on, it was nearly impossible to tell amidst the din of a warehouse with everyone speaking a different language.

Someone bumped into him from behind and if he didn't have the strength of a bionic arm, he'd have dropped the load of boxes...so he did so. He turned around furiously, words of rebuke about to spill from his tongue - but he continued to play his role, gesturing angrily instead. He'd had some time on the plane to learn some basic sign language, so he threw some of that in, as well.

''If you'd look where you're going, this might not happen, idiot!'' the man scowled.

_English_! Steve made the universal sign for 'deafness', cocked his head as though he truly couldn't hear - and then tossed out a couple of other 'universal gestures'.

''Well, aren't you charming? You know, the boss put a freeze on hiring weeks ago. So what the hell are you doing here, anyway?''

Steve stared at him blankly.

''Don't you read lips? I thought all of 'you people' read lips...'' He turned to go and Steve started back piling boxes. The man stopped and knocked something large and metallic to the ground with a loud _**clang**_. Steve just kept on piling boxes without turning to look - without even flinching.

Clearly, he was being tested...

* * *

Russ shuddered just slightly as he picked up his weapon to begin his day...and then his mind began to wander. This was the hardest part of his day; once the gun was in place he didn't have to think about it most of the time. But he'd been victimized by Anna more than once - and out of all of her 'subjects', the most horrific acts committed had been at his hand. He'd forced Oscar away from National Medical at gunpoint and turned him over to Grant Kingsley, which nearly ended in disaster. But far worse than that - and the one thing he couldn't wrap his mind around - was that he had pulled a weapon, looked a kneeling Jaime straight in the eyes...and shot her in the head. He'd long since worked through his awkwardness with the Austins and was able to once again count Steve among his closest friends. But every morning, when the moment came that he had to pick up his weapon, he remembered...and the memory jolted him to his very soul.

This morning, he found himself unable to shake it off. With hands that wouldn't stop trembling, he dropped the weapon on the floor and stared at it in horror, unable to pick it back up again. _This is ridiculous_, he told himself. _It's not even the same gun - and I have work to do! Dammit...__**get on with it!**_ he told himself.

It was no use. Jaime's face just before the gun had gone off loomed large in front of him and nothing - not even the gratitude and self-fulfillment he felt from finally being back on the job - could make the image go away. He didn't keep any lemons in the house, as he'd thought the need for them was long past. He moved in an anguished daze into the kitchen...and cursed himself for forgetting to fill the ice trays. He had nothing to 'center' himself - and he could tell as he began to go down that this was a bad one. He couldn't reach the phone and all of the self-hypnosis and relaxation techniques Mark had taught him wouldn't make Jaime's face - and the aftermath of his actions - go away. He heard the shot over and over...smelled the blood and (unlike the actual shooting) this time he couldn't get away.

* * *

''Jessy!'' Becca crowed on their way out of the park.

The new nurse leaned close to the child, flashing her a warm smile. ''Mon-i-ca,'' she prompted.

''Jess, Jess, _Jessy_!'' She turned and nearly fell out of the stroller in her enthusiasm, reaching her arms toward where she'd spotted her favorite nurse.

Jaime and Monica both turned to look...but the bench was empty.

''There's no one there, Sweetie,'' Jaime told her daughter.

Becca began to kick her feet against the stroller and her face turned red as she worked herself toward a full-blown tantrum. ''_**JESSY**_!'' Jaime picked her up from the stroller before it tipped over from her antics...and she carried her squirming, kicking, screaming child all the way home.

- - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

There was no way for her to talk to Steve; he couldn't exactly phone home like most husbands do when their careers take them away from home - and Jaime missed him terribly. She felt like a single parent, even with a nurse there 24/7. Becca seemed to have gone from the occasional tantrum to suddenly screaming and stomping her feet through the entire day - and Jaime was half-debating whether to call Mark and ask him to try and psycho-analyze a two year old.

Then the doorbell rang; as usual, his timing was impeccable. He took one look at Jaime, heard Becca crying in the background...and held up a familiar pink-and-white striped box of Jaime's favorite cookies. ''I've got the perfect medicine,'' he offered.

''Thanks, Mark - but I'm not giving her a cookie when she acts like this. No reward for bad behavior!''

''The cookies are for you; I'm just sorry they don't come with ear plugs,'' he said, following her into the kitchen. ''But you shouldn't label her behavior as 'bad'.''

Jaime handed him a mug of coffee. ''Oh? So you're telling me she gets a gold star from Mark Conrad's School of Etiquette and Good Manners?''

''I'm saying she deserves an A-plus in expressing herself - which she was fortunate enough to learn from her mother.''

''I _do not_ kick and scream to get my way!'' Jaime protested. Mark silently raised his eyebrows with a warm smile. ''Okay, so I can be a little stubborn sometimes,'' Jaime admitted, ''but...''

''What do you think she's trying to tell you?'' Mark probed.

''She thought when the nurses came back that one of them would be Jess. Becca just adored her.''

''Past tense?''

''I guess I just assumed...but I miss her too.''

''She's back on the job; whether she comes back here is a question for you and Steve.''

''Well yeah - but for Oscar too; she'd have to pass the security screening.''

''If Michael Marchetti passes, I'm sure Jess will too. So it's something to think about.''

In the other room, Becca (with the nurse) had quieted down briefly, then let out another shriek. ''NO!''

''There she goes again,'' Jaime said softly. ''I know all about the Terrible Twos - but she's more like Regan from 'The Exorcist'. I half-expect to go in there and see her head spin around 180 degrees!''

''I doubt it's that bad,'' Mark chuckled.

''Try spending an hour in that playroom and then see what you think!'' Jaime laughed. ''Speaking of which, I should really go back in there. The nurses weren't sent here to raise my daughter - and with Steve gone, she needs me more than ever.''

Mark put a hand on Jaime's arm. ''The nurses are here to help you in any way you might need,'' he said gently. ''That includes letting you take a sanity break.''

''Who better to take a 'sanity break' with than a shrink?''

''You haven't called me that in a long time.''

''Did they send you to check on me?''

''They?''

''Rudy and Michael. Now that they're only coming once a day -''

''Yes, I heard about that. You got your way.'' He glanced in the direction of the playroom. ''Hmmm...''

''SO not funny...but point taken.''

''You're doing okay, then? No more loss of vision, no dizzy spells?''

''I wasn't really dizzy. Just...sorta lightheaded.''

Mark eyed her more closely. ''And you're 'sorta lightheaded' right now...aren't you?''

* * *

Steve decided that his best bet was to explore a bit and see what he could find toward the end of his shift. He still had so very little to go on! But he'd been watching the man who'd bumped into him - still the only person he'd heard speaking English - for several days now. He only seemed to show up in the late afternoons, always coming and going very quickly as though checking on something there in the warehouse. Always came from the same direction (the office section) and then disappeared in a different direction (into one of the factories that 'winged' the warehouse on the other three sides). And always the same factory. It wasn't much to go on - nothing more than a hunch, really - but it was all he had. Steve placed a few boxes of parts for one of that wing's machines onto a trolley and headed down the passageway (where a deaf-mute warehouse 'hand' had really no business going) and found that everything was quiet. Too quiet. The big set of doors leading to that wing were locked. Steve put his ear to the door and heard no people or machine noises. He forced the knob and slipped inside. He put his hand on one of the unmanned machines and found the motor was cold. So was the next...and the next. There were no boxes piled about, no remnants of a day's work and no sign that this wing had been in use any time recently.

Tomorrow, he would check the offices instead, as it was getting too late in the day to justify still being in the building. Steve turned to go and found the door he'd just come through was locked again. The sound of a gun cocking just behind him made him turn around slowly.

''Suppose you tell me what you're _really_ doing here,'' his adversary growled.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Russ sat on the floor in the corner of his kitchen, staring at the gun he'd dropped in the middle of the floor...but he no longer saw it there. Instead, he saw a different gun in his hand (he could _feel_ the cold, hard metal). Over and over, he heard the shot and saw Jaime's eyes go from pleading to nearly bulging out of her head as she toppled from her knees to sprawling on the ground and facing imminent death. _Death...at his hands!_

At that very moment, Steve was also facing a gun - the one pointed directly at him. He tried to say something - anything! - with his limited knowledge of sign language but it was of absolutely no use. The man swung the barrel of the gun at his hands to stop him from 'signing'.

''Don't even bother; you're not deaf! Who sent you here? Griffin? Donahue? Doesn't matter, because you just worked your last shift! Let's go - very quietly.''

Steve made a fast mental note of the names as he grabbed his trolley cart and shoved it into his adversary's legs just before he pulled the trigger. He went down shooting but the split second his aim was thrown off was just enough time for Steve to tip the cart into him then turn and force the door with one well-place kick.

Unfortunately for Steve, instead of facing one gun in a huge factory area, he now faced two more - in the much narrower (and more inescapable) hallway.

* * *

She'd made a mistake in letting Becca see her; she truly hadn't intended that. For now, watching the little girl who'd once been her charge was enough. And in her mind, she had (sadly) done more than enough to suspect she'd no longer be welcomed in their lives. She'd very nearly gotten them killed! Everyone on the plane - and then just Steve and Jaime themselves. Jess was determined that no one should find out about that. It was over...and no harm, no foul...right?

* * *

They'd taken a few days off from working Jaime out on the track but now - at her insistence - they were back. In a few minutes, she'd finally be allowed to _run_ again. This time, though, the doctors had chosen the track at Clayton Memorial (instead of the new one at National's construction site) so they'd be right _there_ if something went wrong.

Jaime knew what it meant...and she didn't like it. ''Ever hear of a self-fulfilling prophecy?'' she sulked. ''If you look hard enough for something to be wrong...''

Her eyes dutifully followed Michael's pencil as she groused, and then his finger as it moved around her peripheral vision before coming to rest on the tip of her nose. Michael shook his head and exchanged a baleful glance with Rudy. ''I don't have to look very hard,'' he told his patient.

''Can I run now?'' Jaime asked impatiently.

''Let's just say I don't like the idea - and I don't think you should,'' Michael explained. ''But I know you; if we didn't bring you out here, the next thing we know, you'd be running circles in your backyard, on your own. So it's better to have you here - with us and in a controlled environment, so yes...go ahead and try things out; let's see how it goes.''

Hidden in a grove of trees, Jess sat watching the scene through binoculars. She saw Jaime take off running and she watched as Mark took Becca from her stroller and the little girl began toddling down the track in her mother's footsteps. God, she was adorable, with her little arms and legs pumping and that sweet little face furrowed in concentration. Jess wasn't sure why she had come or what, exactly, it might mean. She wasn't under Anna or Jack's influence any more and in spite of what it would seem like to anyone who might find out what she'd been doing, Jess wasn't obsessed with the little girl...not really. At least, that was what she told herself.

She had come to adore the child during the the she'd spent in the Austins' home. She'd watched (helped!) her learn to walk and talk! For a long time, she been with the baby more than her own mother! She was so preoccupied with watching Becca (and wondering why Mark and the others were letting her wander so far on her own...that she missed seeing Jaime's legs buckle as she rounded the far turn. Becca had meandered off the track and was heading in Jess's direction as her mother fell in a sprawled-out heap.

* * *

Clear across the country, Peggy Callahan was getting worried. Lately, Russ had called her bright and early every day, just to wish her a Good Morning. Today, not a word. Thinking he might've overslept, she decided to call him instead but got his answering machine.

Still huddled in the corner, Russ heard her sweet voice, perky and pert as she reached across the miles to wish him a great day. It was enough. Peggy's message penetrated through the image of Jaime's face and the memory of the shot. It brought his priorities - and the real world - into sharp, clear focus. Russ blinked, shuddered...and tucked his gun in his holder then poured some coffee into a travel mug and headed out the door.

He loved his job and dreaded losing it; Russ would speak of this episode to no one...


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The little girl had toddled completely off the track and was closer to Jess than she was to the doctors who were supposed to be watching her. All three had rushed to the other side of the track where Jaime was attempting to rise (very shakily) to her feet. They only looked away from Becca for a moment...but one moment was all Jess might need. She longed to feel those sweet little chubby arms around her just one more time. If she stepped out from the trees she could grab the child in that one brief moment...but she didn't dare.

Instead, she called out in a very soft, conspiratorial whisper. ''Becca...shhh...over here...''

Becca turned...and smiled. ''Jessy!'' she said excitedly, rushing toward her favorite nurse.

Jess put her finger to he lips. ''Shhh...'' she cautioned - then held her arms open wide to encircle the little girl, fulfilling her longing for that happy toddler hug.

Jess looked out to the other side of the track where Jaime was now standing quite unsteadily on Rudy's arm, with Michael holding her around the waist for support. Mark had turn and was looking for Becca already, heading in the direction where he'd last seen her. But...it was too soon! If only she could have a little more time! A moment of truth had come for Jess. Becca was in her arms and her car was close by, on the other side of the trees. Should she pick up the little girl and run...or send her back to Mark?

Reluctantly, she cut the hug short and turned Becca around. ''Go and see Doctor Mark,'' she instructed. ''He's looking for you.''

''No.'' Becca turned and threw her arms around the nurse's legs. ''Jessy!''

''Go on now,'' Jess insisted, giving the girl a very gentle push out from among the trees to where Mark would be able to see her.

''Jessy!'' Becca called over her shoulder. Then... ''_Jessy! __**Jessy**_'' she crowed to Mark.

Now the choice was made for her. Jess had no alternative but to turn and run.

''Becca, where did you go?'' Mark asked, swooping her up into his arms. Rudy and Michael were slowly leading Jaime toward the hospital's Emergency entrance and Mark moved to join them. Becca kicked and squirmed against him, still calling the nurse's name. He gathered that she saw the facility and associated it with the nurses who had cared for her there. ''I don't think Jess is working today, Sweetie,'' he told the tantruming child. ''Let's take care of your Mama right now, okay?''

''No, no, NO! _Jessy_!''

Jess waited a little further back in the trees, until she saw the little group enter the facility, before she started the car. The nurse in her wanted to go inside and somehow let them know what was really causing Jaime's condition...but she knew she'd just been about to do something irrevocable...nonredeemable...and not because of mind control or hypnosis. Her thoughts were her own now - and they'd nearly led her down a very dark path. Instead of confessing the rest of what she'd done, back while still under the order to 'destroy', so that Jaime (and maybe Steve) could be helped, Jess started her car and quickly fled the scene.

* * *

Russ debated with himself about returning Peggy's call. He was already on the road and a personal call in front of the driver just wouldn't be good form. As much as her voice always started his day on a good note, he would have to wait the 10 or 15 minutes it would take for the car to fight its way through traffic. If nothing pressing was going on, he'd call her from his office. Then he finally decided he'd call her first, before reading his messages, returning the mass of phone calls that always seemed to await him or the inbox that got fuller the more he tried to accomplish. Hearing from her would make the rough spots bearable; somehow, she always found a way to do that. In an ideal world, they'd work in the same office (instead of separate headquarters of the same agency, halfway across the country). Perhaps some day he could change that...but for now just hearing her voice would have to do.

* * *

Steve was seated on a rickety wooden chair in a damp, musty tunnel beneath the office section. He wasn't secured in any way - but the guns just inches away from either side of his head precluded any attempts to escape. He was still maintaining his 'cover', making universal signs for deafness with a questioning look to try and fool his captors into believing he didn't understand. His act proved effective in at least one way: his captors spilled bits of information as they tried to goad him into speaking.

''So you were sent here,'' the interrogator began as he paced in front of the chair. ''Was it Griffin or Donahue?'' he asked again. ''Or maybe Morrisey himself?''

_Morrisey_?! Steve struggled not to show shock (or any reaction) when he heard the name. He couldn't mean _Frank Morrisey_...could he? The name had to be a coincidence! If the OSI's lead attorney had his hands in an arms-and-information ring halfway around the world...they were all in a world of trouble! Even though he hadn't been struck, Steve's head began swimming alarmingly, his sight blurring and returning, just when he needed his wits about him the most!


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mark took a still-wailing Becca down the hall to visit some of the nurses who had cared for her while her parents had both been in Clayton...but the child would not be soothed. One of the nurses was dispatched to the children's ward to grab some bright, colorful picture books while it was suggested that maybe Becca was angry with _Mark_; if he left for a bit, she might calm down. So he smiled knowingly at their optimism and went back to check on Jaime.

''_I am __**not**__ staying_!'' he heard as he rounded the corner. Jaime was sitting on an exam table, swaying slightly and looking from Michael to Rudy and back again as her chin quivered in a pout exactly like Becca's. (Or was it the other way around?) She saw the therapist and her face brightened. ''Tell them, Mark! Becca needs me!''

''Like mother, like daughter,'' Mark chuckled.

''Well that's no help!''

Michael motioned Mark into the hallway. Luckily, Michael's temporary office was just up the stairs (and out of Jaime's hearing range) so they headed there to confer. ''I don't know what to make of it,'' Michael admitted. ''None of the other victims are exhibiting these symptoms - and there's nothing in any of the last week's tests to account for it. Not one victim is having as much as a dizzy spell - and this time, she was blinded again. Only for a second or two - or so she says - but she lost vision. We've arranged for a top ophthalmologist to fly out and consult; he'll be here tomorrow morning. In the meantime - and this is maddening - we can't find anything wrong with her to justify keeping her here. And she's demanding to go home.''

''So I heard,'' Mark told him. ''I don't feel right about letting her go, either - mainly because she doesn't seem to be taking this seriously enough. But I suppose if the nurses are specifically told to keep an eye out -''

''Which is what they're there for anyway,'' Michael agreed, ''but yes.'' His office phone rang and he picked it up wondering who even knew he was here. When he hung up, he was frowning. ''Oscar's on his way ; he'll be here any minute. And he wants to talk to all three of us.''

''Uh-oh...''

* * *

In her cubicle, Jaime actually _was_ taking things seriously - and she was seriously frightened. But she wanted to be with her daughter. The fact that Becca was tantruming over a nurse meant she needed more time with her _parents_ - not in the care of the nurses! (But having them in the home 24/7 while she was feeling so shaky was quite reassuring.) Then she saw Oscar come bustling in the Emergency entrance - and right past her cubicle without stopping or looking in. Then Rudy was called from the cubicle and Jaime began to panic.

_Steve!_ Something had happened to Steve! She debated sneaking down the hall to listen but the Security he'd brought with him would likely just return her to the cubicle. She may have felt forced to stay right where she was (for now) but her heart was already halfway around the world...

Maybe if she stayed around the corner from the offices (and out of sight of Oscar's Security detail) she could find out what was happening!

* * *

''Steve missed his check-in and I don't know where he is,'' Oscar said blunt;y, once all three of Jaime's doctors were assembled. ''Maybe he's just following a lead...but check-ins are _not_ optional and he knows that. I'll give him until the next one and if he misses _that_...it's a good thing Jaime's doing well because I may need to activate her sooner than expected, in which case we'll need her up to full power and ready to go as soon as you can arrange it.''

All three doctors opened their mouths to argue - but Michael was first. ''I wouldn't exactly call sitting in the ER 'doing well','' he protested.

''And I can't justify giving her full power - much less activating her to work - when her condition is so unstable,'' Rudy added.

''She's in the Emergency Room?'' Oscar exclaimed. ''Why wasn't I notified?''

''You just were!'' Michael shot back.

''Is it serious?''

''We don't know yet,'' Rudy explained. ''We hope to have more information when Jeff Cooper gets here in the morning to take a look at her eyes.''

''Well let's get him here tonight,'' Oscar announced decisively. ''If he clears her, I may need her ready to go by morning.''

''Now wait a minute!'' Michael stormed. ''IF the eye doctor clears her, that doesn't mean that I will! Because _I won't_! Sending Jaime into the field when we don't know what's happening to her or what's causing her condition is utterly ludicrous! You'll end up with _both_ Austins in trouble - or worse! - instead of just one!''

''I hope it won't be necessary. Steve will probably check in any time now,'' Oscar told them. ''Or at least, at the next assigned point. But if he doesn't, I may have to over-ride your signature. An entire team of my best men couldn't accomplish what Jaime might -''

''What Jaime _will_ accomplish!'' Jaime announced, having rounded the corner and (gently) shouldered her way past Security with a withering look before forcing the doorknob and 'joining' the ring of arguing men. ''Obviously, my ear works fine. If Steve's in trouble, then check me over, patch me up and turn up the power; I'm ready to go!''


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

As he tried to clear his head - and his vision - Steve knew what Jaime was going though and that it likely wasn't caused by Michael's treatment...but he didn't have time to think about that. He also knew Oscar (specifically, how Oscar thought) and if he didn't get himself out of this predicament, Oscar would likely send Jaime to try and extract him. But he didn't have much time to think about that, either. If he didn't come up with a plan and get himself out of there fast, it didn't sound like his captors would let him live long enough for help to arrive.

Should he blow his 'cover' of deafness and argue or try to reason with them? Maybe if he suddenly spoke, it would throw them off balance. On the other hand, keeping up the cover had afforded him with the only information he'd garnered so far. Then...upstairs, an office door slammed hard enough to actually _feel_ it and a voice thundered ''Rubens!''

''Keep an eye - and your guns - on our friend here,'' the main captor instructed before hurrying up the stairs.

Steve wished for Jaime's bionic hearing because even though the argument upstairs was obviously heated (and voices were raised), he could only make out bits, pieces and fragments of sentences. Still, his captors thinking he was deaf seemed to mean they were a little less careful, a little sloppier in speaking anywhere near him.

''CIA...what that means if...'' came echoing down the stairs from the office above them. ''OSI maybe..._Morrisey_...so then kill him...''

* * *

Russ was assigned to not only wait by the phone to (hopefully) take Steve's next check-in himself; he was also charged in the meantime with communicating with Steve's handler and their overseas informants. So far, there had been no trace...no word. No 'buzz' in the international Intelligence community or the underground as to where Steve might be or what was happening to him. He hadn't had time to return Peggy's personal call but had touched bases with the DC headquarters (and thus, with her) several times as efforts were being coordinated. Their best hope - their only hope, really - was that Steve really was following a hot lead and would hit his next check-in.

He also hadn't had time to give any more though to what had happened that morning. He'd hit his stride as soon as the car had picked him up and hadn't stopped since. Maybe he would call Mark Conrad once this situation was resolved, but hopefully it was a one-time thing. He'd long since made enough progress to handle it on his own.

* * *

While Jaime was being re-examined (with an eye toward giving her full power, if possible), she sent Mark to check on Becca. The last time she'd seen her daughter, Becca was being carried - kicking and screaming - down the hall Mark couldn't get over the similarities between mother and daughter that were becoming more apparent as Becca got a little older. While Jaime didn't kick or scream to get her way, their pouts were virtually identical, right down to the ever-so-slight quivering of their chins. And certainly neither one was shy about letting those around them know _exactly_ how they felt!

He rounded the corner and still didn't hear tears or screaming; an excellent sign. _She must've fallen asleep_, he thought facetiously to himself. Instead, he found the child wide awake - and smiling - as she listened to a story while nestled on Jess's lap.

* * *

When Steve's captor made his way back down the stairs, he was alone...and his own gun was drawn. ''I'm afraid the time for calm, quiet reasoning is over, my friend,'' he growled. His mood was noticeably even more foul now that he'd come fresh from an argument. ''And don't bother 'playing' with your hands; you aren't deaf and we both know it. The only question is what to do with you now. Depending on who you are - and especially who sent you - you could be a very valuable source of information. If that's not the case, then I have no more time to waste with you...and your time is truly up.''

Steve had to go with his instinct now - and if he made the wrong choice, there would be no second chance.

* * *

Jess looked up long enough to smile warmly at Mark but never missed a beat in the story she was reading. Mark was going solely on instinct but something about the situation made him very uneasy. He'd always instructed his patients to go with their gut - that their instincts would never steer them wrong. ''Becca, mommy is looking for you,'' he announced firmly.

''NO!''

''I'll take you to her and you can have dinner together, then I think you'll be going home.'' (He knew how strongly Jaime and Steve both felt about not letting Becca think of hospitals as her 'second home'.)

''No! Jessy!''

Jess had obediently closed the book and opened her arms, releasing the child so Mark could take her. He braced himself for the maelstrom that would follow...which was good, since Becca expressed her _displeasure_ all the way down the hall.

_She'd rather be with me than with her own mother_, Jess told herself with great personal satisfaction. Instead of worrying her, the thought made her smile.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Steve took a deep breath - and ignored the trio of guns pointed directly at his head. ''Alright; you got me. I'm not deaf...but if it's _Frank_ Morrisey you're talking about, I'm the one to deal with. I can help you.''

''Men make great promises when their lives are at stake,'' Rubens scoffed. ''Why should I believe a word out of your mouth?''

''Let me call him,'' Steve suggested calmly. ''Or his people, anyway. I can have him back off or arrange negotiations; whatever you need.''

Rubens seemed to be letting this sink in, although he still didn't lower his weapon. ''I might be interested in a deal,'' he allowed. ''But your boss needs to stop changing the arrangements midstream. I offer him a price for his '_services_' and then he tries to up the ante. Doesn't fly with me. And sending you in here to spy on us makes me like him even less.''

''I'll take care of it,'' Steve promised. ''Just take me to a phone...''

* * *

Jaime's 'tune-up' wouldn't take very long, and although she'd been right in saying Mark couldn't exactly psychoanalyze a two-year old, he thought perhaps little quiet time with Becca might give him a better idea of what was troubling her so badly. He took her outside for a walk around the grounds, pointing out birds and flowers and the child maintained her equilibrium, appearing happy and even enthusiastic...until they reached the track.

''Jessy...'' she said softly, pointing to the spot in the trees where Mark had earlier seen her emerge,

Mark got down on the ground so he could talk to the little girl on her level. ''Becca, was Jess here?''

''Jessy!''

''You saw her here?''

''_Jessy_!''

Mark picked her up and carried her around the track, stopping at various points and at each spot asking Becca if she'd seen the nurse there. Whether she truly understood him or not, each time, she looked back to the original spot and pointed, saying the name. Mark noted that there was no screaming...no tears or tantrums. Becca seemed content, perhaps because Mark was listening to her, believing her - instead of ignoring what she'd said or (worse yet) telling her she was wrong. Even nurses with the best intentions didn't have the care and raising of a child while her parents were too ill or injured to do so themselves...and Mark was beginning to question Jess's intentions. He would have a serious talk with her very soon, but for now his chief prerogative was the little girl who was happily toddling along, holding his hand as they headed back into the hospital.

Quality time with her parents (and a hefty dose of understanding) would likely be just the ticket for what was troubling Becca. Dinner with Jaime would just scratch the surface but it was a start. A little table was set up in a room in the makeshift bionic wing and while mother and daughter ate and talked, Mark made arrangements for a second, smaller bed to be moved into Jaime's room. Jaime would be pending the night so the doctors could keep an eye on her now that she'd been tuned to full power, making sure she had no adverse reactions. It would be better for Becca to be tucked into bed and spend the night with her mother - and not more nurses - especially if Jaime would be going overseas in the morning.

* * *

Russ was on the phone with Peggy when the 'check-in' phone finally lit up. ''Gotta go!'' he said urgently as he dove for the other phone. ''Yes?'' he answered.

''Russ, it's me,'' Steve said slowly. ''Is Morrisey in?''

''Steve, he's in his own office on the other side of the city.'' Russ began choosing his words carefully because Steve knew where the OSI attorney was - and knew the number to reach him. Instead, he'd called his own check-in line. ''Are you alright?'' he asked.

''No. Get me Morrisey on the line - now!''

''Are you in jail?''

''NO! And tell him he has a lot to answer for, with my new friends here.''

Russ got the message like a load of bricks dumped into his lap. ''What can I do to help you? What do you need?''

''Dammit! _I need Morrisey_! Seems he's not playing fair, from what I'm told, and I'm _investigating_ whether his _services_ should be continued here.''

''Wrap it up,'' Rubens ordered. ''And get me some _results_! Tell him he has 8 hours to come up with a respectable offer - or you won't be around to negotiate any further.''

''Listen,'' Steve relayed, trying to get his own message across as well as that of his captors, ''you find my _not-so-good_ friend Morrisey and get him where he belongs. When I call back in eight hours, he needs to show some respect for the people he's dealing with. His information might be valuable but if he can't be trusted at his word the deal's off. '' With a gun pressing at each of his temples, Steve's next thought was to protect Jaime. ''And tell him not to send any of his flunkies to try and pull me out. He deals directly with me. Eight hours - and that's final.'' Steve set the receiver in its cradle, breaking the connection. He could only hope Russ got the message - and would act on it accordingly. In other words, _Russ, Morrisey may not be one of the good guys. He's selling valuable information; he can't be trusted. And Russ, whatever you do please (__**please**__) don't send Jaime after me. They plan to kill me in eight hours..._

Steve knew that even if Frank Morrisey himself got on the phone to talk to Rubens (which was about as likely as a snowstorm in Los Angeles in August), he'd have served out his own usefulness to them; there was no way his captors would let him live after that. Even if they did send Jaime (and he prayed that they wouldn't), she would arrive too late. He'd have to wait for an opening and take his own best shot at escape.

He had eight hours.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

''You did well,'' Rubens chortled as Steve was roughly shoved back into his chair in the basement. ''Will your man come through for you? It will be a long eight hours for you, won't it? Quite possibly your last.''

Steve didn't answer, instead sizing up his captors. There was Rubens, who had a short fuse but answered to someone he appeared to be afraid of or intimidated by. Maybe Steve could use that, play on it like a fiddle to get to him. Then there were the two gunmen who as yet hadn't spoken a word, either to him or to Rubens. They were thus an unknown quantity.

''Back to playing deaf, are you?'' Rubens taunted.

''I hear you,'' Steve answered calmly. ''What I don't hear are Mutt and Jeff over here. Do they have voices? Are they allowed to speak...or is that 'privilege' reserved for your boss's favorite puppet?''

''Pushing me isn't wise,'' Rubens warned.

Steve turned to one of the gunmen. ''Doesn't your boss here let you talk? Of course, he isn't your boss, is he? Not really, the way he jumps the minute a higher-up rings a bell...''

''_Enough_!'' Rubens growled, slapping Steve across the face with the barrel of his weapon. ''You're just asking to be gagged. Do you _want_ to spend your last hours on this Earth with a gag in your mouth?''

Actually, that was precisely what Steve wanted...

* * *

Jaime had read several stories to Becca while the child nestled contentedly in her arms, then she'd tucked her into bed with a tender kiss. There had been no tantrums. Then she padded down the hall to where Rudy was waiting to give her a treadmill test before bed.

The scientist in Rudy hated for his work to be rushed. The doctor in him was terribly worried about his patient (she was in no shape to be sent on a mission) - _and_ about her missing husband. But at least Jaime's vital signs were strong - and held steady even after her workout. That was one consolation. Her body seemed to be accepting the increase to full power without any complication, at least for now.

''I know you don't want me to go,'' Jaime said softly.

''You're right.''

''But...if Steve's in trouble, I might be the only one who can get him out. I _have_ to go!''

''I know that too. I'd like to give you a sedative, so you can at least get a little sleep tonight.''

Jaime nodded and accepted the needle without argument. Hopefully, they would wake her if they heard from Steve and she knew she'd need to be rested, with all of her wits about her, if she was going overseas.

Rudy saw her back to her bed and watched her drift into a restless sleep before heading back to the lab to make some notes. Oscar was waiting for him, his eyes dark and his face an unreadable mask. ''We heard from Steve,'' he told Rudy.

''That's great news!'' Rudy exclaimed...but Oscar wasn't smiling. ''It is good news...isn't it?''

''How's Jaime?''

''Oh no...'' Rudy breathed.

Oscar nodded. ''Steve's cover is blown. I could send in an extraction team but having them storm the place would only mean mass casualties - probably Steve included. He apparently asked that we not send anyone - and by 'anyone' he most likely meant Jaime - to try and help him. But -''

''But your 'extraction team' is sleeping down the hallway. I'll go wake her.''

''Let her sleep...for now. Her flight is being arranged quickly because the situation sounds grim. This may be the only sleep she gets for awhile.''

''Is there any other way?'' Rudy pleaded. But both men knew the answer to that.

* * *

''They jump when you ring the bell,'' Steve continued to taunt, ''and you sure do jump when _your_ bell is rung! Chain of command, yes - but do any of you actually think for yourselves? Are you even capable -?''

''I said _enough_!'' Rubens thundered. ''Are you trying to get yourself shot?''

Steve doubted that would happen quite so soon - or at the very least, hoped that it wouldn't. They needed him for that one last phone call...and he intended to be long gone before then. ''You won't do it,'' Steve said evenly. ''You have _orders_ to follow. You're nothing but a pawn yourself.''

Rubens stepped closer and delivered an even harder smack across Steve's face. Steve never flinched or looked away (even with the gun barrel directly between his eyes) as he brought one foot up to connect with Rubens' legs - not enough to bring him down but intended to seriously annoy him. And it worked.

''Tie him up and gag him!'' Rubens snapped.

Exactly the way Steve had intended...


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The two gunmen jerked Steve back in the chair, each of them pulling one arm to secure him. In doing so, they had to lower their weapons for a brief moment...and it was the only moment Steve had. He swung his legs forward and out, catching Rubens in both of his kneecaps and sending him straight to the floor, writhing in incapacitating pain. He swung his right arm out at full force and flung that gunman straight into the wall then turned and delivered a solid punch to the other's solar plexus.

He was free! He twisted the two henchmen's weapons into bionic pretzels then grabbed the gun out of Ruben's hand without a struggle. His captor was still conscious, but there was no way he'd be giving chase. Steve took the gunmen's handcuffs and cuffed one gunman's hands to the other one's feet and then took their keys for good measure. He left the basement and then the factory complex behind and tore out of the parking lot, heading for his rooming house. If Rubens had other cohorts (or hit men) and was somehow able to alert them, this would be the first place they'd look, so he had to move fast. He blinked away a momentary clouding of his vision to grab only what was necessary then fled the room.

An American-oriented diner-type restaurant a few blocks over afforded him the use of a telephone when he flashed his credentials to the English-speaking manager. ''Russ, it's me,'' he began.

Half of the world away, Russ sat bolt upright in his chair. It was too soon! Or...was it? ''Steve, are you alright?''

''I'm not hurt...and I'm out.'' Steve had to sink into the manager's chair as exhaustion and dizziness overtook him. ''I'm safe - for the moment, anyway. But I need a flight home and I need it yesterday.'' He blinked again to bring the room back into focus. ''And Russ? Let Rudy know I'm having the same problems as Jaime...''

* * *

News that Steve was free reached Clayton's bionics wing at bionic speed. Rudy silently praised the saints when Oscar told him the good news...then he paged Michael and sat down behind his desk to begin puzzling out the symptom that were troubling 'his kids'.

Oscar returned to his own office at OSI Headquarters with a long night still ahead of him. After meeting with Russ to ensure Steve had a secure and _fast_ way home, he had a brand-new investigation to kick straight into high gear...an investigation into one of their own...

Mark Conrad heard the page and the flurry of activity and quickly found Rudy and Michael. Jaime's (and Steve's) two doctors and therapist began putting the pieces together. Michael pointed out that it could no longer be considered a side effect from Jaime's original injury, the regeneration or his latest 'treatment'.

''Contagious illness?'' he threw onto the table.

''Then why wasn't Becca affected? Or the nurses?'' Rudy wondered.

Mark thought of Jess's somewhat odd behavior (especially if what Becca had insisted upon was really true) and an awful possibility occurred to him. ''What about poison?'' he suggested softly. ''Maybe in something Steve and Jaime ate or drank...that was prepared for them...''

He didn't have to finish. Three pairs of eyes met around the table. The pieces fit. There'd been someone in the Austins' household who until very recently had been under Anna and Jack's influence. Rudy was first to pick up the phone. He ordered a full spectrum tox screen on Jaime and - just to be on the safe side - on Becca too.

* * *

Jaime rolled over in bed and woke with a start, her 'mother's instinct' suddenly on high alert. Becca was still sound asleep in her own bed, but she coughed once...twice...and made a tiny whimpering sound. Jaime turned on the dimmer reading lamp (so as not to wake her) and took a closer look. The child's eyelids looked swollen and she was sweating profusely. A gentle hand to her daughter's cheek told Jaime that Becca was burning up. Jaime dove for the call button. It was at that moment that the lab tech arrived to draw blood.

''I need a nurse!'' Jaime said urgently. ''And have them page Doctors Wells and Marchetti. And -''

Two nurses rushed into the room, followed immediately by Mark and the doctors (since the call light also was wired into Rudy's office). Becca whined and coughed again as the flurry of activity woke her. Jaime drew the child onto her bed, encircling her in her arms.

''We have to draw blood, Honey,'' Rudy said quietly, ''from both of you.''

Jaime nodded and did her best to soothe her feverish child, turning Becca's face toward her own as the tech drew near. She looked into Becca's eyes - they were bright red and swollen - and tried to smile reassuringly, to not let Becca sense her own fear. ''Little stick, Sweetie,'' she whispered.

The child wailed at the prick of the needle and Jaime held her still, rubbing her back until it was over. Then she kissed the hot little forehead and smiled again. ''Good girl,'' she praised. ''Such a _big_ girl. I know you don't feel good. Can you be a really big girl and let Doctor Rudy take a look at you, so he can make you better?''

Becca nodded, sniffling and coughing, and Rudy helped Jaime ease her back into her own bed, then the lab tech drew Jaime's blood as well.

''I need everything else dropped until those screens are complete,'' Rudy instructed. ''Faster than ASAP. Faster than STAT.'' With Becca ill, contagious disease was back as a possibility...but her symptoms seemed very different than the ones afflicting Jaime (and now, apparently, Steve). The blood screens were _crucial_.

The tech nodded and hurried from the room. Michael looked up from Jaime's bedside. ''No symptoms here. Normal temp, normal vitals.''

Rudy took the cool cloth offered by one of the nurses and ran it along Becca's forehead and gently across her cheeks, then looked at the thermometer.

''101.2,'' he announced.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jaime stifled a small gasp of fear, so as not to frighten her daughter. It wasn't a critically high temperature but in light of everything else that was happening, it was certainly alarming. While the nurses hurried to offer more cool compresses, Jaime drew the little girl back into her lap, wiped her nose and smoothed the hair back from her forehead.

''Rudy...Michael - what's going on?'' she pleaded in a voice that she hoped sounded calmer than she felt. ''Blood tests in the middle of the night...?''

Mark stepped closer to the bed . ''They have some possibilities that need to be checked out and hopefully eliminated. As soon as the results come back, we'll have a clearer picture and -'' Mark could see that Jaime was instead tuning in to Rudy and Michael who were conferencing in the far corner, so he stopped talking to allow her to listen

''The symptoms don't match up at all,'' Rudy was saying. ''I don't know of any illness - contagious or induced - where the spectrum of symptoms covers all three of them.''

''And none of the nurses from the household have reported symptoms of any kind?'' Michael asked.

''None that I know of - and I'd have been the first to hear,'' Rudy told him.

Michael nodded. ''I think we're looking at something entirely different here.'' He approached the bed. ''Is it alright if I take a look at her?'' he asked Jaime.

Normally, Jaime knew Steve might have an issue with Michael performing any sort of care toward their daughter, but this wasn't a 'normal' situation - and while Rudy's focus was science, Michael's was medicine. Jaime nodded. ''Doctor Michael needs to take a look at you,'' she told Becca, careful to include her instead of just letting things happen around her. Becca sniffled with another tiny whimper and turned her face toward Michael.

Michael pulled up a chair so he could be directly at the child's eye level instead of towering over her. He couldn't exactly ask her the standard questions - any loss of vision or dizziness - so he had to find a way to get the answers for himself. ''Let's play a little game, Becca,'' he said brightly. ''When you see any of my fingers, you catch them as fast as you can, okay? Don't let them get away!'' He moved his index finger from one side of her face to the other, popped it up in the middle and danced it around. Every time, Becca's red, swollen eyes followed easily and she grabbed hold with her tiny fist. ''Vision, reflexes and reaction time normal,'' he finally told Rudy.

After sending one of the nurses for a tongue depressor, Michael turned his attention toward Jaime. He realized that in all of the commotion, no one had told her about Steve. ''By the way, your husband managed to catch an earlier flight,'' he said, masking the real information from the nurses in the room and yet knowing Jaime would understand. Her face brightened with the news

"Daddy's coming home soon!" she whispered to Becca.

The feverish child squirmed in her arms. "Daddy..." she repeated. Jaime ran one of the cool cloths across Becca's cheeks, her attention immediately focused back upon her sick child.

''I need you to do some detective work in your head for me,'' Michael told her. ''The nurses sometimes prepare your meals, right?''

Jaime nodded. ''Not so much anymore, but they used to - before you 'fixed' my head, when things weren't working right.''

''Okay. Was there something they fixed for you that you ate over a period of time - maybe something frozen in portions - that you might or might not have given to Becca, too?''

''I don't think so. Everything they made, we ate right away.'' Jaime thought a little more, understanding without needing to ask what Michael was getting at. The thought terrified her - and if someone had _poisoned_ her daughter, there would be hell to pay! ''Portions...over time...does it have to be frozen?''

''Not necessarily. And maybe Becca didn't have any. I'm just exploring possibilities here. Just give it some thought.'' Michael nodded his thanks to the nurse as he took the tongue depressor. ''I know Mommy doesn't like you to make faces,'' he told Becca, 'but I want you to make one at me anyhow. Make it a really good one; stick your tongue out at me.''

Becca coughed and looked up at her mother. Jaime smiled. ''Go ahead, Sweetie - make it a good one!'' Becca turned and stuck her tongue out at Michael, even managing a small giggle at being allowed to do something forbidden.

''Ooh, that's a good one!'' Michael chuckled. ''Now, I'll bet you can't open your mouth really big with that tongue out - like this!'' He demonstrating for her and Becca giggled (with a slight wheeze) as she opened her own mouth nice and wide. ''That's even better than mine!'' he praised. ''Now I'm going to use this stick to get a really good look, okay? You just keep making that face at me.'' One of the nurses turned on the bright overhead light so Michael could see clearly...and Becca closed her eyes with another tiny whimper. ''I know; that light hurts your eyes, doesn't it?'' Michael asked softly. Becca nodded but obediently kept her mouth open even as her eyes began to tear. ''I'm sorry; we're almost done - and you're doing a _great_ job. Rudy - come look at this.''

Rudy rounded the other side of the bed and leaned in toward the child, peering into her mouth at the tiny, greyish-white spots that went all the way back into her throat. ''Koplik's spots,'' he said knowingly. He patted Becca's arm(and Jaime's shoulder) and stepped back so Becca wouldn't feel crowded. Michael sat back in his chair and when the nurse dimmed the lights again so Becca could open her eyes, he smiled reassuringly at her.

Jaime looked from one doctor to the other, waiting for an answer. The signs were very clear now, and whatever the toxicology screens might show for Jaime (and Steve, when he returned) and for Becca too, they had an answer for what was currently making the child so miserable. Michael, as the 'medical' doctor, was the one to voice it for Jaime.

''Looks like Becca has the measles.''


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Michael got up, called down to Pediatrics for cough and fever medicines and returned with a Dixie Cup with a bit of cool water in it, which he held out to Becca. ''If you can drink this for me,'' he told her with a wink, ''I'll bet Doctor Rudy will make a silly face for you.''

Becca looked doubtful, perhaps wondering if Doctor Rudy knew _how_ to make a silly face, but she accepted the cup and took a tentative sip...and then another. While Jaime and Michael praised her, she tipped the cup upward one more time, downed the last sip...and looked expectantly at Rudy.

Rudy smiled, deciding to make this extra-special for her. ''Everyone else needs to close their eyes,'' he announced. ''This is only for Becca.'' The child looked from one person to the next. Sure enough, everyone's eyes were closed...and she giggled. Then Rudy drew close to the bed, put his thumbs in his ears so he could wave all of his fingers at her, stuck out his tongue and even did a little jig. Becca clapped and laughed (in spite of her wheezing) and the rest of the room opened their eyes.

''Are you...admitting her, then?'' Jaime asked softly.

''Not necessarily,'' Michael answered. ''If she continues to be able to take fluids, there's not a lot we can do for measles that you couldn't do at home.''

''She'd be so much more comfortable at home,'' Jaime agreed.

''Of course, that all depends on the results of the tox screens,'' Michael reminded her. ''I'll be giving Becca something for cough and to bring the fever down so he'll be more comfortable and able to rest. We should have the other answers for you in the morning. By the way, have you had the measles?''

''When I was 5,'' Jaime confirmed. ''What time are they expecting Steve?''

''Daddy...'' Becca murmured.

''Around lunchtime, if all goes well,'' Rudy replied. ''He'll need to be checked over, debriefed - and now, blood drawn too - but he should be yours in time for dinner.''

* * *

Once Steve had boarded the military transport jet, he finally allowed himself to relax. It'd been a close one, but he was going _home_. He closed his eyes and smiled as he pictured Becca and Jaime playing happily in the backyard flowerbeds. _Jaime_...she'd fallen so hard that day at the track! It was the same day Oscar had arrived to send him off on this mission - and he'd tried to tell himself during the long hours and days of stacking boxes that what had happened to her was a one-time fluke. Maybe, in her excitement to be regaining strength (and feeling like herself again), she'd pushed herself way too hard. Or maybe it was her system re-adjusting to bionic strength. Those reassuring thoughts had to be abandoned when his own vision blacked out, exactly as Jaime had described - just for a split second. Stress and exhaustion? Sure...except that in the last few hours, he could match his wife symptom for symptom...and Jaime had been neither stressed nor exhausted.

Too keyed up to sleep, Steve had nothing to do but think - and he soon came up with the same insidious conclusion as the doctors. _Poison_. But how had it happened? An injection or possibly fumes while they slept? Not likely. Steve had been sleeping lightly, in full protective mode, for a long time now; he knew he'd have awakened. Was it in something they ate or drank? It had to be - but Becca was long past the baby food stage and ate pretty much everything he and Jaime did. Why wasn't she affected? Frantic for an answer (and to hopefully prove to himself that his daughter was okay), Steve searched his memory for every possibility.

Suddenly, he had it! He remembered the day Jess had shown up for her shift with a platter of cookies, while still under Anna and Jack's influence. ''_I remembered how much you both loved Jaime's mom's chocolate chip/pecan cookies,_'' she'd said almost shyly, ''_so I thought I'd try to make some for you. Hopefully, they at least come close_...''

She claimed to have forgotten that Becca wouldn't eat anything with nuts in it...but that wasn't the sort of detail a nurse would forget. If her intention had been to harm Steve and Jaime and not their daughter, it was the perfect way to do it! The cookies were delicious and it was a huge batch, so he and Jaime had been happily snacking on them ever since...

* * *

Becca settled down once her fever was under control, and soon Jaime drifted off to sleep too, sitting on the edge of her own bed and hovering precariously as she continued to hold her daughter's hand. Michael found her that way and eased her back onto her pillows. Jaime stirred...and smiled at him.

''She's doing better,'' Jaime whispered before finally allowing herself to give in to a more restful sleep.

Michael watched both of them for awhile. Jaime looked beautiful with only the moonlight coming through the window to illuminate her face. Becca was sleeping peacefully, the cough at least temporarily vanquished and with only a slight wheeze as she breathed. She looked positively angelic - and so very much like her mother. There'd been a point when he'd truly believed she was his daughter and he'd had hopes of the three of them somehow becoming a family after all - but those thoughts were long gone. They were his patients now, and once he was satisfied that everything was as it should be, he returned to Rudy's office where they waited (with Mark) for the results of the blood work. Between the three men, there was not even a thought of sleep.

When the results were delivered just after dawn, Rudy took Jaime's and Michael took Becca's - and Mark waited tensely while they began to read.

''Negative; she's clear!'' Michael announced with a sigh of relief. He and Michael looked to Rudy.

The older doctor's face was grim when he finally looked up from the paper. ''Positive. Let's get the lab gong on an antidote fast...and then we'll talk to Jaime.''

* * *

Jaime tried her best to get Becca to take at least a little more of her breakfast but even after the nurses gave her more medicine, the best she could manage was most of her juice and a bit of scrambled eggs. Jaime looked up when the three doctors entered...and read the answer on their faces.

''Both of us?'' she asked quietly.

''Just you,'' Michael said in a gentle voice.

''Thank God...''

Michael's face (and voice) brightened temporarily as he turned to greet Becca. ''Good morning, Sunshine!'' He looked the child over while Rudy explained the results to Jaime.

She took the news calmly (now that she knew her daughter was unaffected). She'd ingested a poisonous compound over the course of the last few weeks and it was attacking her central nervous system. Rudy assured her that an antidote could be formulated within the next 24 hours and Jaime nodded toward Becca.

''She's asking to go home -''

''Home!'' Becca parroted.

''Is it alright if I wait for the antidote there, so she can be comfortable in her own bed and familiar surroundings?''

Michael straightened up from where he'd been exchanging googly-eyed faces with Becca. ''Since you'll still have a nurse with you, I don't see why not. As long as she continues to at least take clear fluids - and _you_ take it easy - that should be fine. Just remember your balance is off -''

''I know.''

''And I want you to report any further loss of vision or any new symptoms to your nurse immediately. Understood?''

Jaime nodded eagerly. She couldn't wait to get home, tuck her daughter into bed with all of her stuffed animals to comfort her...and then settle back with a mug of cocoa and a couple of chocolate chip/pecan cookies.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

''...and Mister Bear...and your 'lovey'...and Old Floppy Ears...and your 'baby,'' Jaime concluded, placing each of Becca's most well-loved dolls around her in the bed. She was in her favorite little pink nightgown with lollipops on it and after another dose of medicine (she obediently plugged her nose) and a drink of water, her eyelids were already beginning to droop. Jaime tenderly kissed her forehead and planted another kiss on one of her palms, closing the child's fingers so she could 'save it for later'.

While she waited for the nurse (and Steve!), Jaime changed into lounging pajamas (keeping her promise to the doctors that she'd take it easy) and then peeked in on her daughter one more time. Her breathing didn't sound right. (How much wheezing was 'normal' for the measles, anyway?) Jaime padded out to the kitchen to phone Doctor Heath, Becca's pediatrician...but got an answering machine. She left a message and then phoned Clayton Memorial to ask Michael. While she was on hold for him to be paged, Jaime put on a pot of water for cocoa.

_C'mon, Michael - answer your page!_ she thought. Occupied with her concern for Becca - and missing Steve terribly - she was restlessly searching for some means of comfort. The OSI team that had been sent early that morning to sweep every trace of food from the kitchen had been very thorough. They'd even taken the cookies from the old blue pottery jar and replaced them with store-bought Chips Ahoy!

_My baby is wheezing and no one will answer their damn phone!_ Still trying to soothe her badly jangled nerves, Jaime opened her cutlery drawer, reached behind the tray that held the forks and spoons...and smiled. They hadn't found her 'secret stash'! Not even thinking about what she was doing, she got a snack plate and placed two cookies on it...then impulsively added a third.

* * *

Jess was running on nerves and sheer adrenaline when she pulled into the lot at Clayton. She'd barely slept at all and was still unsure of exactly what her next move might be. She couldn't stand the thought of what she'd done...but what would happen to her if she told the truth? None of Anna and Jack's victims were being prosecuted, at least so far - but she had done actual physical harm...

* * *

When the test results came back, the trio of doctors had their means of poison transmission - and they had their suspect. Rudy called Oscar to let him know while Mark headed out to the wing where Jess was scheduled to work that day. She might or might not even realize what she'd done, and he would bring her back to his office without unduly alarming her. Then Michael could arrange for another MRI to find out what - if anything - had gone wrong.

No one heard the page...and Jaime remained on hold.

* * *

Jaime was getting sick of elevator music; sitting on hold was rattling her more with each passing minute! She heard a tiny cough from the nursery...and then another...and she put down the receiver to rush to her daughter's side. Michael finally answered the page and got on the line immediately but was greeted by nothing but dead air.

Becca was still sleeping but had shoved her animals to the floor as she tossed and turned. Jaime replaced them, tucking the sheets around her child and kissing her forehead once more. Still cool, but the wheezing was worrisome.

''You can expect some chest congestion, coughing and a very stuffy nose,'' Doctor Heath had forewarned her. But...how much coughing was normal? Jaime returned to the kitchen, determined to get some kind of answer from someone!

She poured the hot water into a mug and stirred in the cocoa, then sat down with the phone cradled against one ear. She dunked one of the cookie in her cocoa, just as she had when she was a little girl and smiled as she took the first bite. It was almost as good as the ones her mother used to make and Jaime relaxed a little and she took another bite.

A car pulled up the drive and she listened idly - then hung up the phone again when she realized it wasn't the nurse. That distinctive style of braking to a stop (safely and yet with emphasis) belonged to only one person. _Steve was home!_

* * *

Mark hadn't been able to find Jess. The normally dependable young woman hadn't shown up for her shift. Perhaps Oscar and Russ would have to put out an APB and bring her in. That would only serve to put her on the defensive, exactly what Mark didn't want, but there might be no other choice. Then he returned to his office and found Jess waiting by the door, pale and shivering with fear.

''I...I need to talk to you...'' she began

* * *

Steve threw open the front door with a huge grin on his face. He'd managed to ditch the OSI escort at the air field so he could rush home and see his family before he was grabbed for debriefing. Jaime met him in the doorway and joyfully threw her arms around him...but all he saw was the half-eaten cookie in her hand. He didn't know whether to swoop her up, put her in bed and phone the doctors or rush her to the hospital himself. Instead, not knowing where Becca was and not wanting to alarm her, he forced himself to stay calm while he led his wife to the sofa and sat down with her. Gently, he took the cookie from her hand.

''Hey, that's mine!'' Jaime protested...then she saw the look in his eyes. ''What's wrong?'' she asked, even as her own mind was finally making the connection. ''Oh no...''

''I had the pilot call ahead to warn you,'' Steve said softly.

In the flurry of activity that morning to get Becca ready to go home (and to 'clear' the kitchen), Steve's actual warning simply hadn't reached her. ''They didn't...I mean, I wasn't thinking of...'' Jaime stammered. ''They took all of the food from the kitchen and I had a couple of these stashed away, so while I was trying to reach Doctor Heath, I...''

Steve drew Jaime closer and then frowned. _The pediatrician?_ ''What's wrong with Becca?'' he asked. A horrible possibility entered his mind. ''Oh God -she didn't eat a cookie...did she?''

''What? No. I - I was worried about her cough and her breathing and was trying to reach either Heath or Michael, just to know what was 'normal' -''

''That doesn't sound very normal to me,'' Steve fretted.

''Well, it isn't,'' Jaime explained. ''But with measles -''

''Measles?''

''Yeah. It's a good thing we had 'em when we were little because -''

''Um...Sweetheart,'' Steve interrupted. ''I've never had the measles...''


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

''_Oh NO_!'' Jaime exclaimed. She jumped up, pulled Steve to his feet and began shoving him toward the door. ''Out! You have to get OUT!''

Steve didn't push back, but did his best to stand his ground with his exhausted, weakened body. When that didn't work (and Jaime was still insisting that he _get out...get OUT_), he wrapped his arms around her in a tender embrace and whispered in her ear, trying to calm her. ''It's okay, Sweetheart,'' he began.

''Out!'' Jaime was noticeably stronger and she very nearly had him to the door, pushing out of his arms and opening it to shove him outside.

''Jaime, _stop_!'' he insisted. ''I'm alright.'' Steve found one more burst of energy and closed the door, leaning his body against it so she couldn't open it again. ''Right now we need to call Michael and get you some _help!_ If I get the measles, then I get them. It's not life threatening or even Earth-shattering.'' Once again, he drew her close...and this time she didn't push him away. ''Besides,'' he concluded, ''with all the time I was spending with Becca, I was probably exposed whenever and wherever she was.''

Jaime leaned into the arms she'd longed for (for more than a week) and everything - dizziness and blind spells, Becca's illness and the poisoning - all closed in on her and she finally allowed herself the luxury of tears. ''I was so worried about you,'' she said softly. ''I...they...they tuned me up so I could go after you, if you needed me!''

Steve didn't think very highly of the doctors' decision to give in to what he knew had likely been pressure from Oscar (and Jaime). She was in no condition to be sent overseas into a high stakes mission when her balance and vision were off! But for now, he let it go and gently led his wife back to the sofa.

''How many cookies did you eat?'' he asked, his heart pounding with worry and fear.

''Just what you have in your hand,'' Jaime told him.

Steve reached for the phone - just as the doorbell rang. He opened the door to find Rudy and Michael on the front porch. ''You're home!'' Rudy exclaimed. ''You know they're looking for you for debriefing.''

''Yeah, I figured,'' Steve nodded.

Michael looked toward Jaime who was still sitting on the sofa. ''Is everything alright? I got a page that you were on hold and then no one was on the line - so we both came right over.''

''Did you bring the antidote yet?'' Jaime asked miserably.

''It's not quite ready, Honey. Hopefully in the next few hours,'' Rudy told her. ''Are you feeling worse?'' he asked with deep concern.

''She had another cookie,'' Steve explained. ''Not sure where she got it but -''

''It was behind the forks and spoons,'' Jaime sniffled, trying to pull herself together.

Both doctors were already hovering over her, with Rudy taking her vitals and Michael parading his ever-present pen in front of his face. Becca whimpered from the other room, and Steve hurried to check on her.

''She's hot,'' he announced, poking his head back into the living room.

''Her medicine's by the kitchen sink,'' Jaime told him. ''A dropper of the purple and half a dropper of the pink. Then give her some water - not too cold - try to get her to take at least half a cup.'' She looked at the doctors. ''Oh...he's never had measles.''

''Blood pressure's high,'' Rudy announced. ''Vitals are all over the place. Honey, let Steve take care of Becca right now, let us take care of you and - as hard as I know this is - try to settle down. Some nice deep breaths for me.''

''Reflexes are off, reaction times too,'' Michael told Rudy.

''Jaime!'' Steve called from the kitchen. ''Did you mean half of a measuring cup of water - or half of Becca's cup?''

''I'd better help him,'' Jaime said with a slight smile. She rose to her feet...and grabbed the sofa arm for support as she tried to find her balance. Michael took her arm and tried to get her to sit down - but stubbornly, determined to help her daughter (and her husband), Jaime started for the kitchen. She stopped after just a few steps, wavered in every direction and then flailed her hands behind herself until she found the sofa.

When she sat down, she didn't even need to tell the doctors what had happened; they could see the fear on her face and the glazed, blank look in her eyes. Once again, _Jaime couldn't see_.

* * *

Jess heard Mark coming and suddenly felt like a caged animal, her eyes darting everywhere for a possible escape. ''Let's go into my office,'' Mark told her in a calm, gentle voice.

''I...no, I - I can't do this!'' Jess stammered. She turned to run and when Mark put a careful, steadying hand on her shoulder, she shook him off and bolted for the stairwell.

She was younger (and had a head start). He opened the stairwell door and couldn't tell if she'd gone up or down. Most people would've assumed she was running for the parking lot and her car, but more than a decade of experience told Mark exactly what was happening...and where to find her. While her spry legs would enable her to take the stairs with ease, for Mark the elevator was faster. He took it straight up to the top floor then entered the stairwell for the last flight of stairs to the roof.

Mark opened the outside door very quietly and looked around. Exactly as he'd suspected, he spotted Jess in her white nurse's uniform, lowering herself to sit on the edge of the building, looking down..._from six floors in the air_.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Jess's head whirled around, almost causing her to lose her balance (exactly what Mark _hadn't_ wanted). ''Get outta here,'' she said with an eerily calm voice.

''View's not all that great...is it?'' Mark replied. ''You came to see me for a reason Let's go back to my office and talk about it, instead of sitting up here looking at the tops of the outbuildings.''

Jess didn't answer. Mark took a step closer...and she leaned forward teetering precariously. ''Leave me alone!'' she insisted. ''Just back away and get outta here! I...I'm not kidding!''

Mark took a step back. ''Coming to see me took courage, you know. A whole lot of it. This - sitting on the edge of a roof and thinking of throwing yourself off - doesn't take any courage at all.''

''Wanna bet?''

''You're smarter than this, Jess,'' Mark said softly.

''I'm not so smart. I -'' she leaned over so far that Mark's breath caught in his throat. ''...I did a really dumb, really terrible thing,'' she concluded.

''I know,'' Mark told her.

''You do? Great...'' Her fingers were barely gripping the rail on either side of her. The she let go of the rails and placed her hands at her sides, gripping only the roof itself. Her sense of balance was the only thing still keeping her on the edge.

''We can still fix this,'' Mark said in a calm, steady voice.

''No. They'll put me away! Or...or _you_ will!''

''No one wants to put you away, Jess. You're a _victim_ here, every bit as much as Jaime and Steve are. And I can help you make this right.''

''Can't make it right. I...I _hurt_ them! They could've died!'' Jess began to sob quietly, which took even more of her attention away from keeping her balance.

''That doesn't mean you deserve to -''

''They still could! Because of me!''

''How would you like to be remembered, Jess? As a warm, loving nurse - or as a poisoner?'' Mark asked, as gently as possible. ''Because if you jump now, the only thing you'll leave behind is a bad memory.''

''Don't care!''

''You do care - or you wouldn't have tried to find me in the first place.''

The young nurse only began sobbing harder, and while she reached up to grab the rail again with one hand, she leaned over so far that most of her lower body lost contact with the roof. Mark pulled himself up to his full height and used his most authoritative (and father-like) voice.

''_Jessica! __**Stop it**__! Lean back all the way! Lay down on the roof - and do it NOW_!''

Jess stiffened, and for a moment Mark thought it was all over. Then, almost in slow motion, she lowered herself until her back was entirely in contact with the roof, with only her feet dangling over the edge, her chest heaving with sobs. Mark covered the distance between them as fast as a non-bionic person could move, practically diving toward her and - _finally_ - pulling her to safety.

* * *

Steve passed through the living room on his way back to the nursery - and stopped short when he saw his stricken wife with both doctors hovering over her.

Jaime heard his footsteps pause. ''I'll be alright,'' she told him. ''Take care of Becca.''

Steve nodded, then realized she couldn't see a nod. ''Okay; I'll be right back,'' he promised.

Becca was closer to being fully awake now - and when she saw Steve, her whole face lit up. ''Daddy!'' She raised her arms and when Steve leaned down to kiss her forehead, she threw them around his neck. ''Daddy, Daddy, _Daddy_!'' she wheezed.

''Daddy missed you so much, Peanut!'' Steve exclaimed, returning the hug. _God, she's so hot!_ he thought to himself. He took her temperature and called out to the living room with alarm, ''101.6!''

''Give her the medicine!'' Jaime called back. She blinked rapidly, but this time her vision just wasn't returning!

Steve showed the dropper to Becca. ''A little medicine, Peanut -''

As happy as she was to see her Daddy again, something about this apparently didn't feel right to Becca. ''Mama,'' she said firmly, shaking her head.

''Mama's busy, but this'll make you feel SO much better,'' Steve coaxed. ''Just open your mouth for Daddy.'' Becca pursed her lips, holding them tightly closed. ''Open the hanger, 'cause here comes the airplane!'' Steve persisted.

''_Mama_!''

When Becca opened her mouth to speak, Steve stuck in the dropper and squeezed the bulb. _Now, how do I get the other one into her?_ he wondered. Then inspiration struck. ''Floppy Ears doesn't feel good. He needs medicine but someone has to show him how to take it!''

Becca looked first at the stuffed bunny...then quizzically at Steve...then finally opened her mouth to accept the second dropper. Steve breathed a sigh of relief and offered her the cup, which she took readily, eager to wash the taste from her mouth _Success!_

In the living room, Michael shined a penlight in Jaime's eyes. ''Can you see this?'' he asked. (Her pupils were not reacting.)

''No; Michael...I can't see _anything_!'' Jaime said in a soft, frightened voice.

Rudy moved to the phone and quickly dialed the lab. ''How much longer on that antidote?'' he demanded.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Steve stood in the doorway of the nursery, watching quietly until Becca fell back to sleep. Rudy appeared beside him and motioned Steve toward the master bedroom.

''You know, that debriefing you ducked out of included a full work-up...and blood tests,'' Rudy told him. He eyed his patient and long-time friend carefully, spotting the telltale waver in his balance. ''How many of those cookies did you eat?'' he asked grimly.

''I had a few. But none since I got home; just walked in the door a few minutes ago, Doc - and all hell broke loose.''

Rudy patted Steve's shoulder empathetically. ''Sit down. You've had a rough go of it. Let me take a look at -''

''That can wait til later, Doc,'' Steve insisted. ''What's happening to Jaime? Is she gonna be alright? The blindness...it was only temporary like last time...right?'' Steve could see the doctor's grim eyes and his reluctance to speak - and it terrified him. ''Rudy...?''

''Our hope is that it'll prove to be temporary, yes. Once the antidote is here in another hour or so, we can eradicate the poison from Jaime's system and hopefully reverse its effects.''

Steve grasped the meaning and ice-cold fear gripped his heart. ''You're saying it didn't pass already. She...can't see?''

Rudy had wanted to break it to him gently before Steve went back into the living room, but it obviously wasn't working - and he had a feeling his patient was about to become even more agitated. ''Steve,'' Rudy said as gently as possible, ''we both know the same poison is working its way through your system too. I need to find out just how badly it might be affecting you. Would you be willing to let Michael test your reflexes and reactions? As a neurologist, it's his field of expertise.''

''Geez, Doc,'' Steve said with a nervous chuckle, ''I think you're trying to make me wish I was back in China!''

* * *

Mark had kept Jess pinned to the asphalt of the roof until he saw the wild look leave her eyes. Then he helped her to her feet and allowed Jess to take his arm for support (rather than simply grabbing onto hers) and led her back down to his office. Only after asking her permission did he inject her with something to calm her down. Every step of the way, he'd remained cognizant of her feelings and was careful to treat her like a human being - and _not_ like a prisoner. The effect on Jess was that by the time Mark sat down across from her, even though they'd barely ever spoken before except in passing, Jess was ready to trust hm.

''You aren't...I mean you won't...you're not gonna lock me up?'' she asked.

''Have you done anything you shouldn't have, since Doctor Marchetti treated you?''

''No. I...well, I've had some strange thoughts. But no; I haven't done anything wrong since then. Except...what I did back then, it was really, _really_ bad.''

''And you remember it?'' Mark asked. Jess nodded, her eyes already tearing up again. ''What did you do?'' he queried.

''I...I _poisoned_ Steve and Jaime. I made sure the baby wouldn't be hurt, but they could've died! The worst part is...I don't even know why!''

* * *

Rudy stayed in the living room with Jaime while Michael went into the master bedroom to take a look at Steve. Jaime had stretched out on the sofa at both doctors' insistence and now her eyes, staring unseeingly at the wall, were filled with trepidation.

''Is he...okay with this?'' she asked.

Rudy gently took her hand to orient her to where he was sitting (with a chair pulled up right beside her). ''Steve?'' he asked. ''Or Michael?''

''_Both_.''

''Steve agreed when I asked him - and Michael is a professional. They'll be fine.''

''Rudy, I hid most of the cookies from him - and ate most of them myself. So that means he's gonna be okay...right?''

Before Rudy could answer, they both heard sniffles and a soft cry from the nursery. Her mothering instinct overrode even the fact that she couldn't see - and Jaime was very nearly on her feet.

''Easy, Honey; I'll see what she needs,'' Rudy told her. ''She was sleeping a few minutes ago. Probably isn't even fully awake.''

''Just give me your arm and take me in there.''

''Jaime, you need to rest.''

''Rudy, she's two years old, she's never been this sick - and she's frightened. And I'm her mother. Either give me your arm and take me in there or I'm gonna follow you on my own!''

Jaime reached out expectantly for Rudy's arm...and the kind old doctor sighed. There was no point in letting her blood pressure get any higher. Instead of merely offering his arm, though, he supported her around the waist and together they headed into the nursery.

''Mama...'' Becca cooed...and her cries quieted. Rudy helped Jaime into the old rocking chair and placed Becca in her arms. Mother and daughter melded together, wordlessly finding comfort from each other. Jaime soothed the child by rubbing her back while Becca nestled against her mother's shoulder, playing with Jaime's hair much the way she had when she was an infant. Rudy was both charmed and mesmerized by the sight, until...

''Rudy, I need you in here!'' Michael called urgently from the master bedroom


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Jaime could only wait in the rocking chair (still cradling her daughter) while Rudy hurried into the next room. He found Steve sitting bolt upright on the bed, his eyes wild and both hands balled into fists. ''Get some ice, please,'' Michael told Rudy.

Jaime struggled to fight back tears. _A flashback!_ Whatever Steve had gone through on his mission (and then coming home to _this_) had been too much for him. Jaime longed to rush to him and hold him close, to help him fight it off...but her vision was stubbornly refusing to clear. She held her daughter close instead, the gentle motion of the chair soothing them both...and she listened.

''Stay away!'' Steve growled. ''I won't let you hurt her!''

''Steve,'' Michael said evenly, ''Jaime's safe; she's in the next room and -''

''I don't believe you! What did you do to her?''

Jaime could hear Rudy's footsteps returning from the kitchen. There was a bustling of activity, another low-in-the-throat growl...and a thud. Then...silence. With her sight gone, Jaime's other senses began to heighten and she was sure she could hear Steve breathing hard as the doctors contained him.

Still in her mother's arms, Becca began to fuss. She clung to Jaime, trying to cry but not quite able to get enough breath to do more than sniffle. She needed to lie down but Jaime didn't dare try to get up and walk with her to the bed. She could find the bed in total darkness but she knew her sense of balance had deserted her and she couldn't risk a dizzy spell with Becca in her arms. Instead, Jaime smoothed her daughter's hair and set her down on her feet (still holding her hand).

''Let's get you back to bed, Baby,'' she said softly, praying that was the direction the child would take. ''Mr Floppy Ears is looking for you!''

Jaime kept hold of Becca's hand - and was relieved when she felt a tiny pull in the direction of the bed. She used Becca's motion to guide her and in this way, as her daughter climbed into bed, Jaime was able to tenderly tuck the covers around her. Then she backed up in exactly the same direction she'd come from and lowered herself into the rocker.

It was so quiet in the other room that Jaime could hear the ice cubes crackle against each other in a dish. Terror gripped her at not knowing what was happening and being unable to go and see...or to help her husband. Terror in itself wasn't enough to trigger a flashback - but terror combined with utter helplessness was! As much as Becca needed Mr Floppy Ears to soothe her, Jaime needed something - anything - from the other room but there was nothing. Either the crisis had been averted or things were at a stand-off. Jaime had no way of knowing it, but Rudy had stepped between Steve and Michael, to keep Steve from hitting the younger doctor.

''Rudy...?'' Jaime called, very softly.

In the master bedroom, Steve heard Jaime's voice coming through the smoke bombs and exploding squibs in his mind. He couldn't see her...but he couldn't really see Rudy, either. Michael's face had become an amalgamation of every person who had ever hurt his wife. He flailed his arms in front of himself, trying to clear his path - forcing Rudy to take a step backward. In many ways, at this moment, Steve was as blind as his wife; the explosions of the flashback precluded him from seeing his own master bedroom and the people in it.

Trembling as she felt herself about to lose control, Jaime tried once more to call for help. ''Rudy...Michael...?''

''Stay where you are, Jaime,'' Michael said quietly.

''NO! Not this time!'' Steve growled. He rose to his feet but Rudy was able to ease him back down without even needing Michael's help. It was alarming for the doctor to discover just how weakened and depleted his patient was. From his seated position, Steve was still looking for his wife. ''Jaime? Follow my voice, Sweetheart; I won't let him hurt you!'' Rudy placed another ice cube in Steve's left hand - and once again, he tossed it aside. Rudy and Michael both moved in and pressed ice directly to Steve's temples to try and 'ground' him...when a quiet voice from the doorway interrupted their efforts.

''Steve...?'' Jaime said plaintively. ''I...I'm here...'' Her face was turned in the direction she'd heard their voices but it was obvious Jaime couldn't see them.

Even leaning against the door frame, she was unable to hold herself up. Rudy was closest and caught her just as she was about to take a header.

* * *

''This'll sting, Honey,'' Rudy told Jaime, half an hour later when the antidote finally arrived. It did, and she winced, then settled back against the pillow, grateful to be in her own bed instead of in the hospital. Rudy had also given her a sedative so she could rest while the compound began its work and within minutes she was sound asleep.

Steve sat in the overstuffed reading chair in the corner, still a little disoriented. The ice to his temples - and then Rudy's dive to catch Jaime before she fell - had pulled him back to reality, but he still wasn't sure what had happened or why.

''You were over-stressed already,'' Michael said with understanding, ''before I started examining you, before you found out your daughter is sick, even before you walked in and saw Jaime with that cookie. Call it a perfect storm of circumstances.''

''I wouldn't exactly call it perfect, seeing as I was ready to punch your lights out,'' Steve said quietly. ''But...thank you.'' He held his left arm out when Rudy approached with the needle and - after everything he'd already been through - didn't flinch when the compound burned into his vein. ''How long before we'll know if it worked?'' he asked, nodding toward Jaime.

''It _will_ work'' Rudy promised, ''in that the progression of symptoms will be halted.''

''And...she'll be able to see again?'' Steve asked.

''We'll know more in a few hours, when she wakes up. By then, Jaime should hopefully be able to distinguish light from dark,'' Rudy told him. ''Open your mouth for me, please. And stick out your tongue.'' There was a reason why his patient was so depleted...and he was about to find the answer in half a dozen tiny whitish-gray spots that had just barely begun to crop up in Steve's throat. ''Koplik's Spots,'' he announced.

''Say what, Doc?''

''You, my friend, have got the measles.''


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Jaime opened her eyes and then blinked, thinking that maybe they were still closed. Shapes loomed around her in shades of gray against black, where nothing was completely visible or even discernible. She could feel that her feet were only just barely on the lower edge of the mattress and when she tried to sit up, her hands slid off the narrow bed from either side. Hands eased her back down as a human shape moved toward her in the darkness. Until he spoke, Jaime has no idea who he was.

''Easy Honey,'' Rudy soothed. ''Just lie back. The lights are off to give your eyes - and your system - a chance to readjust. I didn't mean to frighten you.''

Waking to blackness and not being able to orient herself had caused Jaime to panic. As she hands flailed about, her fingers curled around a fuzzy, familiar shape. ''Mr Floppy Ears?'' she questioned. Suddenly, she knew exactly where she was. ''Rudy, why am I in Becca's bed...and _where's Becca_''

''Becca's in the other bedroom with Steve. Michael's taking care of them,'' Rudy told her. ''Now let's take care of _you_. What can you -''

''Wait a minute. _Michael_ is taking care of Steve? Michael _Marchetti_?'' (_And Steve is allowing this?_ she thought to herself. _Without bloodshed_?) She knew it had to be even harder for Steve to allow a doctor he didn't necessarily trust (or even _like_) anywhere near their daughter.

''Yes,'' Rudy said matter-of-factly. ''Now I need you to lie back with your head on the pillow. Good. Close your eyes again, then open them very slowly. What do you see?''

''Um...I can see you. Sort of. More like a shadow. Not much else...''

Rudy reached over and turned on the Mickey Mouse night light. It cast the palest possible light across the room. ''How about now?'' he asked.

''Rudy - I can see you! Well, sort of. Around the edges. But...I can see you!''

In the master bedroom, father and daughter both sat propped up with pillows on the big king-sized bed, thermometers in both of their mouths. Michael returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for Steve and a cup for Becca. He took Steve's thermometer first (temp, 99.9) and handed him the water.

''Don't know if I can, '' Steve said, peering into the glass. ''Throat's kinda scratchy.''

Michael smiled at Becca. ''Can you show Daddy how it's done, Sunshine?'' he asked, giving her the cup. He glanced at her temperature: 102.0.

Steve bristled inwardly at hearing _Michael_ call his daughter 'Sunshine'...but he kept his mouth shut. The little girl looked at Steve (who nodded) , then back at Michael. She struggled with the first sip, whimpering as the water hit her throat.

''Race you, Peanut,'' Steve challenged.

Of course, Becca won. She sniffled, coughed a little - and still managed to beat her daddy. Then she clapped with glee as both men praised her efforts.

Steve was still was pretend-pouting when Rudy emerged from the nursery. ''Doc...?'' Steve asked nervously.

''She can see,'' Rudy announced with a triumphant smile. ''Not 100 percent, but her sight _is_ returning.''

''Thank God,'' Steve breathed. ''And thank you - both of you - for acting on this so quickly. I know it could've ended very differently if you hadn't. Can I go in there?''

''Best to wait awhile,'' Rudy told him. ''The sedative's still wearing off; she's dozing.''

The phone rang, and Michael ducked into the kitchen to answer it. When he returned, he had a cherry Popsicle that he broke in half, giving one piece to each of his two patients.

''No grape?'' Steve asked.

''Fank you!'' Becca said brightly.

''You're very welcome, Sunshine,'' Michael told her. He looked at Steve. ''So are you, 'Daddy','' he chuckled. ''And that was Oscar. He said you've been home for nearly half a day and -''

''Tell him I'm calling in sick,'' Steve grumbled.

''No such luck. He's on his way over.''

Rudy looked up. ''Did you -''

Michael nodded, anticipating the question. ''I asked; he's had the measles.''

* * *

''Okka!'' Becca greeted in between cough when she saw Oscar come in.

''_Uncle_ Oscar,'' Steve corrected.

''Okka. Okka...*cough*..._Okka_!''

''Becca,'' Steve said sternly.

''She's fine,'' Oscar assured him, both amused and flattered that the child had picked up any form of his name.

''Can't this wait another day or two?'' Steve asked. ''I don't feel very well.''

''You ducked out on my team at the air strip, when you know what Standard Operating Procedure is.'' Oscar pointed out.

''You'll feel even less like getting it done in a few days,'' Rudy added. ''Might as well get it over with.''

''Thanks, Doc. Don't help,'' Steve groused. Beside him, Becca fished her teddy bear out from under the sheets and held it out to Oscar.

''For me? You want me to hold him for you?'' Oscar asked with genuine surprise.

So it was that Oscar (in his usual business suit and tie) began to debrief his best operative (who was wearing Popsicle-stained sweat pants and an old Air Force t-shirt that had seen better days). His recorder took notes about a possibly crooked lawyer (and a very close brush with death) while a two-year-old giggled...and Oscar 'danced' a well-loved, one-eyed teddy bear on his lap.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

''Mama!'' Becca demanded, for the third time in as many minutes. The novelty of being in the big bed next to her Daddy had clearly worn off - and as she grew a little sicker (and a lot crankier), she wanted her mother and simply no one else would do! She began to fuss, which only served to clog her runny nose and make her more uncomfortable. She clamped her lips tightly shut when the nurse tried to offer medicine...and shook her head vehemently when her Daddy tried to do the same.

''You'll feel better, Peanut,'' Steve promised.

Becca shook her head again and turned her face toward the nursery door. ''_Mama_!''

''Sweetie, your Mama's resting,'' the nurse said softly. Jaime hadn't even required more sedation. The ordeal with the poison had sapped her energy and with the shades drawn and only the night light illuminating the room, deep, healing sleep had come easily. A second nurse was there, expressly for sitting with and attending to Jaime so the doctors could reconvene at Clayton, to view test results and bring everyone up to date. In the meantime, getting Becca to take her medicine was proving next to impossible.

She cried - a tiny, hoarse little mewling sound that tore at Steve's heart - but even when he demonstrated for her (by taking his own meds like a champ), the little girl remained adamant. ''Mama...'' she whispered through her tears.

The door to the nursery opened and Jaime stood unsteadily against the frame, her eyes searching for her daughter. Becca's face brightened as both nurses helped Jaime over to the bed and perched her on the edge, next to her daughter.

''You should be in bed, Sweetheart,'' Steve interjected.

''Just let me do this,''Jaime told him softly. The nurse placed the medicine dropper in Jaime's hand and covered it with her own, guiding it toward a target that was still a little too small for Jaime to focus on.

It worked. Becca opened her mouth readily and at the right moment, the nurse closed her fingers around Jaime's, squeezing the dropper. Becca whined slightly..but swallowed. The cat, awakened by his favorite little human's struggle, jumped onto the bed and wedged himself between Steve and Becca, nuzzling the little girl.

''Kitty!'' Becca wheezed.

Steve moved to shoo him away. ''Get down, DC!'' he scolded.

But Jaime smiled (having felt him brush past her as he leaped into place). ''Please don't call him that,'' she chided. ''His name is Newman...or whatever Becca is calling him this week...and he's not hurting anything.'' Jaime had dubbed the cat 'Newman' because as he'd grown from a kitten and begun to show his full Siamese points, the fur's color had reminded her of Paul Newman. Suspecting the moniker was due at least in part to his wife not-so-secret crush, Steve had taken to calling the kitten 'DC'...for 'Damn Cat'.

''Can't be good for Becca to be inhaling all that cat hair,'' Steve grumbled. But the cat had clambered onto his youngest mistress's lap and was nuzzling her chin - and Steve knew that once again he'd been overruled. The cat remained on the bed and Steve shifted over to the very edge to allow Jaime to climb in for some quality family bonding time, until her nurse insisted that she return to Becca's room and lie down again. (For now, they were keeping the two measles patients together and having Jaime sleep as much as possible in the darkened nursery.

''We promised Doctor Wells you'd get plenty of rest,'' Diane said with a firm flourish of her arm that pointed the way back to the nursery. ''We have to give you another dose of the antidote and then you need to _sleep_.'' As reluctant as she was to break up such a harmonious picture, Rudy's orders had been firm and explicit - and she was just doing her job.

Jaime kissed her daughter and her husband's cheeks in turn, then took Diane's arm and headed back to the nursery. Newman/DC/Kitty gave everyone a highly insulted look, flicked his tail and stalked his way down to curl up at the foot of the bed.

* * *

''He was in a full flashback?'' Mark questioned.

''Whatever he was seeing, it wasn't anything in that bedroom,'' Michael explained.

Oscar listened with raised eyebrows that conveyed his shock. This was the first he'd heard of the incident. ''I was there not long after,'' he marveled, ''and Steve showed no signs of it; he never even mentioned it.''

''The fact that he was able to re-orient so quickly after surfacing again is a very good sign,'' Mark told Oscar (and the doctors).

''Why would this happen to him now?'' Oscar puzzled. ''After everything his family's been through, without a single crack in his exterior -''

''It's precisely _because_ of everything he and his family have been through,'' Mark said. ''Steve has had to remain strong for too long and he was cracking on the interior until everything just imploded. He never should've been placed back into service...and as I recall, I did _not_ clear him.''

''Neither did we,'' Rudy put in. ''Not this time.''

Before Oscar could begin to even try to defend himself, Frank Morrisey came striding into Rudy's office without the benefit of a knock. ''Finally tracked you down,'' the OSI's led attorney told Oscar. ''We need to talk - about Austin.''


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Oscar acknowledged Morrisey with a nod of his head - but no invitation to sit down. ''Frank, let's set up an appointment to meet in my office,'' he suggested smoothly. Ideally, Russ should be there too, since he was heading the investigation into what Steve had uncovered. There wasn't even a tape recorder in Rudy's office (which was perhaps exactly how Morrisey wanted it) but at least there were several OSI-affiliated witnesses.

Morrisey sat down anyway. ''I don't think this can wait,'' he insisted. ''Would you care to tell me why you sent Austin straight into the middle of a Department of Justice investigation?''

''Excuse me?''

''It took six months to gain their trust - and it was the perfect set-up - until _your man_ came traipsing right into the middle of it and nearly got himself killed!'' Frank told him angrily.

''I think you'd better tell me _exactly_ what's going on,'' Oscar insisted.

''We were working to pin down the foreign pipeline for the buying and selling of our government's classified information,'' Frank explained. ''I was feeding them outdated information so we could track where it went and through whom. And we very nearly had it all mapped out - then in comes Austin and...dead stop.''

''Out-dated information?'' Oscar repeated incredulously.

''Well you didn't think I'd give them anything of actual value, did you? What was your man doing in there, anyway?''

''Investigating an illegal arms stockpile,'' Oscar told him. He didn't know whether to believe Morrisey or not (his story would have to be checked out and verified) but if it were true, it might all be a classic case of the right hand not knowing what the left hand was doing...

* * *

''Ugh...I think I feel the spots growing already!'' Steve moaned.

''You probably have at least a few more days before there'll be any visible rash,'' Diane explained tolerantly.''Right now, though, it's time for your medicine.''

''We just had medicine...'' Steve protested.

''Four hours ago.''

''Ugh...''

''Please...let me?'' Jaime asked, emerging from the nursery. This time she stood on her own, without needing her nurse's arm - and her eyes found the bed and her family easily without needing to search or wait for everything to come into focus. The extra sleep (and a second dose of antidote) had done her a world of good.

''I can't,'' Steve said obstinately. ''My throat hurts.'' Beside him, Becca coughed and sniffled but didn't complain.

Jaime moved to the bed and placed her hand on her daughter's forehead. ''She's _hot_,'' she announced.

''103.8,'' the nurse told her.

''Should we call Michael?'' Jaime fretted. Then, realizing how that might sound to Steve, she added, ''Or the pediatrician...''

''Mama...'' Becca wheezed.

''I've been phoning in reports to the doctors,'' Diane told her. ''But a high fever is 'normal' during the measles' onset. As long as she's taking fluids and the fever responds to medication, there's nothing to worry about.''

Jaime wiped Becca's nose so she could breathe well enough to swallow first the pink and then the purple liquids...then offered her the cup of water. Becca gave a small cry in the back of her throat. ''Nooo...'' she whispered. Jaime knew it wasn't the orneriness of the Terrible Twos - that it likely hurt the child to try and swallow - but the water was essential.

''Just a sip, Baby,'' she coaxed. ''One sip for me - that's a good girl. Now a sip for Daddy...and one for Newman.''

''DC,'' Steve corrected.

''Fwed,'' Becca put in with a raspy giggle. She and Steve had been watching a Flintstones marathon on TV - and for this week (or at least for today) - she'd decided the cat's name was Fred.

''You need to take your pills,'' Diane reminded Steve.

''I can't. My throat hurts.''

''Steven Earl Austin,'' Jaime scolded, ''your daughter is a far better patient than you are. You're supposed to set the example!'' She placed her hand on his forehead. ''You're barely even warm! Now take your pills, drink your juice and show our daughter how it's done - or no Flintstones for you!''

''Dabba-DOO!'' Becca chortled.

Newman/DC/Fred clambered lazily back onto the bed, flicked his tail with disdain at Steve...and curled up in Becca's lap.

* * *

In her bed at Clayton, Jess was fighting back tears. She'd agreed to be admitted to the _locked_ ward as a precaution, for her own safety. After all, a few hours earlier she'd been hanging over the roof ledge by just her fingertips! But the very thought of where she was - and why - was more than she could handle. Mark had assured her that no charges would be brought against her for the things she'd done while under Anna and Jack's influence and she was grateful for that. But she also knew she'd still have to face an interview with Oscar Goldman (with Mark Conrad there for moral support) to detail exactly what she'd done. She would have to tell them about the diaper bag she'd brought aboard the plane that had crashed; she could handle that. She'd also have to come clean about the poisoned cookies - and as awful as it would be to bring that out in the open, Jess could handle that too.

What she couldn't quite wrap her mind around was the issue she _hadn't_ voiced to Mark (because she couldn't acknowledge it, even to herself). It was something she couldn't find the words to talk about. She'd been 'cured' by Doctor Marchetti's treatment, which meant her mind was now her own - and yet she couldn't let go of the dream she had that filled her waking hours as well as cropping up while she slept.

Jess could very clearly see herself raising Becca Austin in a cute little house in the country, with no Steve or Jaime there to interfere! It just wasn't right! Or...was it?


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

''We don't really _need_ a nurse anymore,'' Jaime was insisting, just 48 hours later. ''I can take care of them.''

''And in the meantime, who takes care of _you_?'' Michael pointed out. ''You're still recovering from being poisoned -''

''I can see just fine!''

''Trust me; when the spots start popping out, you'll be thankful for an extra pair of hands.''

A few hours later, Becca lay back against the mountain of pillows, whimpering softly. Several dozen measles spots were visible on her face and upper arms.

''It itches!'' Steve moaned. ''I can't stand this!''

''You have one spot on your cheek,'' Jaime pointed out (as she fed their daughter some Chicken and Stars soup). ''And you barely have any fever. I think you're gonna live.''

''And my throat hurts,'' Steve moaned quietly.

''I'm sorry, Hon...but I think you can handle it, after dealing with foreign - and domestic - espionage...and a gun in your face.''

''Gun!'' Becca parroted.

''Looks like we'll have to start spelling in front of someone,'' Jaime chuckled. ''I can just see her going off to nursery school next year, talking about g-u-n-s and s-p-i-e-s! Or worse yet...b-i-o-n-i-c-s! And she can't see us using them - not _ever_!''

''Are you still thinking you'd like to homeschool her?'' Steve asked.

''I think it's for the best; then she can learn at her own pace - and we don't have to worry about kidnappers. But she needs nursery school for the socialization, to learn to make friends''

''She made friends at the park,'' Steve groused. ''And it got us the measles.''

Jaime offered another spoonful of soup - and Becca shook her head with a tiny whimper, her lips pursed shut. They had neared the bottom of the bowl and Jaime tipped it slightly so she could scoop up the last of the little macaroni stars (Becca's favorite). But tears formed in the child's eyes. ''No, Mama,'' she pleaded softly.

''That's okay, Sweetie,'' Jaime told her, caressing her cheek and smoothing back her hair with a light, tender touch. ''You did a great job.''

''My turn now?'' Steve asked, holding out his bowl to Jaime.

''You are perfectly capable of eating your own soup,'' Jaime pointed out.

''But my throat hurts...''

''Eat your soup, Austin. The warmth will help your throat -''

''But...Mama,'' Steve whined

Becca's hands traveled toward her face, where her cheeks had flushed bright crimson and it seemed like more spots were erupting as they spoke. ''Try not to scratch,'' Jaime told her. ''If it itches, just rub, very gently.'' Jaime demonstrated, then turned to Steve. ''She's _really_ warm.'' She moved quickly to take their daughter's temperature. ''Steve, it's nearly 105!'' she said in a calm voice that she hoped wouldn't frighten Becca. The normally energetic, bubbly child was listless and her eyes were glazed as she looked at Jaime. ''I'm calling Michael,'' Jaime announced, heading out into the kitchen.

When she returned, Steve was trying to give Becca some water, without much success. ''Michael said to give her some more of the fever medicine and see if that works,'' Jaime told Steve. ''Temps can go very high just as the rash hits. I'm supposed to call him back in an hour - or sooner, if thing get worse.'' Becca usually cooperated with the medicine dropper...but today she was having none of it. She rolled away from Jaime, making a sound her parents had never heard from her before. Tears flowed from her eyes but her throat was too sore and she was too weak to cry.

Jaime did something that, had she witnessed from anyone else, she'd have thought was simply cruel: she rolled Becca over to face her as gently as possible but definitely against the child's will. Becca's mouth was clamped shut and Jaime's eyes met Steve's; she was hating herself for what she was about to do. Without further argument or discussion, she forced the dropper into Becca's mouth and squeezed it. Becca stared at her mother with a look of disbelief and even betrayal...and it broke Jaime's heart.

''Swallow, Baby; please swallow,'' she begged quietly. The nurse watched from the doorway, ready to step in, if needed...and she very nearly did, but Becca swallowed the sticky pink liquid and Jaime gathered her child into her arms and sat on the edge of the bed, rocking her gently.

''Why'd you call _him_?'' Steve asked.

''Huh?'' Jaime was bewildered. ''Steve...just _look_ at her...and that fever...it's so high...''

''She has a pediatrician,'' Steve said pointedly. ''And yet, you called _Michael_.''

''This isn't the time, Steve. But if you must know, Her doctor's on vacation and she's never met the stand-in. Now cut the attitude or I'm taking that soup back and giving you Chicken and Stars - in a sippy cup!''

* * *

It was time for Jess to go home. She'd stayed two nights voluntarily and she'd given the right answers (repeatedly) to all of Mark's questions. His gut told him otherwise but she didn't meet the criteria for an involuntary commitment. Everything she'd done, the harm she'd inflicted, had been under Jack's and Anna's influence. She was neither a danger to herself not to others.

Of course, she hadn't told Mark - or anyone - about the thoughts she'd been having...about the compulsion she felt to make the baby she'd helped raised from an infant really and truly _hers_.


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The US government was at loggerheads with itself, primarily the Justice and Intelligence communities. One might think this was the criminals' doing, as it played right into their laps - but it was simply a case of the right hand not knowing what the left hand was doing...and neither branch being willing to admit that they were wrong. The Justice Department and the Intelligence community had been investigating the same crime syndicate, for very different reasons.

Oscar, in particular, refused to give an inch. The Intel he'd received (his justification for sending Steve overseas) had been solid. The fact that he'd uncovered what Morrisey was doing meant (in his eyes) that the Justice Department's work hadn't been so solid, after all.

* * *

''_What_ is your problem with Michael, anyway?'' Jaime demanded as she fixed another cold compress for Becca's forehead. ''He gave me my life back!''

''I'm aware of that,'' Steve countered. ''And I'm grateful. Doesn't mean I want him anywhere near our daughter!''

''He saved your life too!''

''And believe me; I'm thankful for that too!''

''Then would you mind telling me exactly what your issue is?'' Jaime pressed.

''Well. Let's see...'' Steve began sarcastically. ''He tried to take you away from me - while we were _married_, for God's sake! And...he _raped_ you,'' Steve finished softly.

Jaime fought back tears of anger and pain. ''Don't you think I know that?'' she cried. She brushed past Steve. ''Our daughter needs me!''

Becca was lying back on the mountain of pillows, staring listlessly at the ceiling and with no interest in the Flintstones or the cat who was curled up next to her. Steve got into the big bed beside her and Jaime perched on the edge, swabbing her face with the cool, damp cloth.

''Mama...'' Becca said softly. ''Sick...''

''I know, Baby,'' Jaime soothed. It had been nearly an hour since she'd taken the medicine and to Jaime, she still felt hot. Becca hated the thermometer - and Jaime hated adding to her misery, but once again it had to be done. ''104.3,'' she told Steve (careful to keep her voice level and calm). ''Call Michael - or call somebody - but do it now!''

''I think you'd better call,'' Steve told her. ''I'll stay with Becca.''

''Mama...'' Becca repeated in a weak voice, between a cough and an alarming wheeze that came from deep within her chest.

Jaime glared at Steve, with a look that said _Do __**not**__ argue with me_. Steve got up and phoned Rudy with a message for Michael...and both doctors were there within the half hour.

Michael put his stethoscope to Becca's chest - and frowned. ''Feeling pretty bad, Sunshine?'' he empathized. Becca nodded. He knew that with her ear, Jaime was able to hear the deep congestion too; he didn't need to explain to her what he was listening to. Instead, he turned to Steve. ''Her lungs are full of fluid,'' Michael explained. ''In essence, she's very slowly drowning.''

''Measles can do that?'' Steve asked.

''No; but a secondary infection - like pneumonia - can.''

Jaime couldn't suppress a gasp of fear. ''Pneumonia?''

''She needs IV antibiotics and bronchodilator today - _now_.'' Michael explained to both parents. ''With an RN on premises, we could set it all up at home...but I'd feel more comfortable treating her in a hospital setting.''

Steve got out of bed and got street clothes from the dresser, but on his way to the bathroom to get dressed, he stopped to place a supportive arm around Jaime's waist. Steve kissed her, then suggested, ''Why don't you pack some of Becca's things, while I get dressed?'' Their eyes met, with their disagreement forgotten in the interest of helping their daughter. ''She's in good hands,'' Steve said softly (surprising even himself) before he headed into the bathroom.

* * *

Steve stood close by while Jaime tucked all of Becca's favorite dolls around her in the bed, placing Mr Floppy Ears in the child's arms and then drawing her onto her lap and holding her close while the IV needle was inserted. Becca wailed and buried her face in her mother's chest...then gradually relaxed as the brochodilator took effect and she could breathe more easily. Jaime eased her down onto the pillow, tucking the blanket around her (and Mr Floppy Ears)...and already more comfortable, the child drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Jess was no longer under anyone's influence except her own...but the compulsion her mind was showing her was one she'd had for years. She had always wanted a child of her own (preferably a little girl) but as someone who'd devoted so much of her time and energy to her career, it simply had never happen. Still, slowly but surely, she'd gotten everything ready. The little cottage was not only secluded, it was also far enough away from Los Angeles that anyone who might be looking for her would never find her there.

When she'd become one of Becca's full-time nurses (while she was still a premie in an incubator), she'd come to feel that in many ways, the child was _hers_. In those early days, she'd changed more of Becca's diapers than her parents (with all of their various hospitalizations) ever had! As the little girl had grown, spending so much of her time at National after Jaime had been shot, it was Jess who'd often rocked her to sleep. She'd drawn the baby onto her lap and read her countless stories before she was really old enough to understand (but building in her an early interest in books).

Jess had even bought her presents - dozens of them - but since it would've been inappropriate for a nurse to shower her charge with presents, she'd brought most of them here. Jess spent the afternoon putting away the infant toys and setting out toddler-appropriate ones instead. Then she opened the closet and ran her hands through the dozens of lacy, frilly little dresses, with tiny matching shoes on the floor beneath them.

_Everything was ready._


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Steve and Jaime both spent the afternoon at Becca's bedside. The child was frightened and confused. While she'd spent an inordinate amount of time in hospitals, she hadn't been an actual _patient_ since the week just after she was born. She was used to toddling down that hall at will to visit with the nurses - but this time she was confined to her bed and the nurses came to her. Truth be told, she felt too miserable and weak to get out of bed anyhow. She was alternating between a feverish, restless sort of sleep and quiet fussing when she was awake. This scared Jaime more than anything else, seeing her normally bubbly, cheerful little girl in this state.

Steve held out for as long as he could but soon Jaime could see him beginning to wilt...and so could the doctors. Michael ducked out and returned with two interns who were pushing a bed. ''Now you don't have to leave her - but I want you in bed,'' Michael said firmly. ''I know I'm technically not your doctor, but -''

''But you're right,'' Steve agreed. He had seen how surprisingly good Michael was with Becca, and that had made an impression on Steve. ''I trust you,'' he said, accepting a patient gown and going into the bathroom to change. A few minutes later (when Jaime was just about to check on him), he poked his head out of the door. ''Ah...Sweetheart? Could you come here, please?''

Jaime found he was still in just his shorts, looking at himself in the mirror. She gasped; it was almost as though someone had drawn a line where Rudy had attached the bionic arm - and then covered the rest with spots. ''You'd better show Michael,'' she said quietly (afraid that if she touched him, she might _hurt_ him).

''Jaime...I'm in my underwear.''

''Well, I can see that. Somehow, I don't think that's what he'll be looking at.'' She made the decision for her husband, stepping just outside the door to call, ''Michael...I think you need to see this!''

''Why not call Rudy too?'' Steve suggested. ''And we can have a connect-the-dots party in the bathroom.''

Michael took one look...and nodded. ''Let's get you into bed,'' he told Steve.

Steve waited until Michael had left the bathroom before flashing Jaime a wry grin. ''See...now that's what _you're_ supposed to say when I'm in my underwear!''

Jaime tilted her face up to kiss him, then tied his hospital gown for him. ''C'mon, funnyman,'' she coaxed. ''Bedtime for you!''

* * *

Jess hummed an anticipatory lullaby as she pulled the pink-flowered quilt over the little bed and perched a teddy bear jauntily on top. Everything was now ready for whenever the opportunity presented itself. And she was _sure_ the right time would come; knowing the Austins and their histories of repeated hospitalizations, Becca would likely be cared for by the nurses again some day soon, so she could be near her parent(s) during whatever they'd be treated for next. It was inevitable for those two...and it was meant to be. For now, though, she had to get into her uniform and set out early for her shift at Clayton. The drive was so much longer now, but one day soon that distance would be advantageous. In the meantime, she was grateful that Mark had suggested she return immediately to work, to give herself a feeling of normalcy. She wasn't actively suicidal; she'd merely been reacting out of fear at the thought of admitting what she'd done. She needn't have worried; Oscar Goldman's second-in-command had _shot Jaime in the head_ and he was back at work! She wasn't a danger to herself - or to anyone else, as far as Mark knew. Going back to her nursing duties would give Jess something to do until it finally came time to _rescue_ Becca Austin from parents who didn't deserve her!

* * *

Jaime read Becca 'just one more story' and then gently kissed both of her cheeks and her forehead - taking care not to jar the oxygen mask - before placing Mr Floppy Ears in his honored position beside her. The child's eyelids were already drooping, and Jaime joined Michael at Steve's bedside. ''She seems better already,'' Jaime whispered. ''Not so uncomfortable - and definitely not so hot.''

Michael nodded. ''She's responding well to the bronchodilator. It isn't over yet, though. We'll continue that course of treatment- and flooding her system with an antibiotics cocktail - for another 48 hours or so, although tomorrow we'll try weaning her off of the oxygen mask and see how she does with breathing room air.''

''Michael, thank you,'' Steve said sincerely, ''for everything.''

Michael nodded and smiled. ''I'm just glad I could be here, instead of a doctor she doesn't know treating Becca when she's so sick.''

''A stranger would make things so much worse,'' Jaime agreed. ''Right now, I know familiar faces must be comforting for her.''

After Becca and then Steve had drifted off to sleep, Jaime finally allowed herself to doze in the chair next to Becca's bed. She never saw the 'familiar face' who was watching them - and especially Becca - from the hallway...


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Steve whispered softly so that only Jaime's ear would hear him (not wanting to disturb Becca). ''Is she asleep?''

Jaime had been very nearly asleep herself, dozing beside Becca's hospital bed, but she got up and padded over to her husband's side. ''What do you need?'' she whispered.

''Do you think you could get a cool cloth for my head...please? I feel really awful.''

Jaime had just finishing reading a story to Becca, then wiped her down with a cool compress and held her until she fell asleep. On top of the stress of her child (and her husband) being admitted to the hospital - and before that, trying to take care of them both at home - Jaime was beyond tired. But she was also _healthy_ when the rest of her family was not...and she'd do anything she possibly could to help them. So, fighting back her own exhaustion, she took a fresh, clean cloth from the supply cart left by the nurses, ran cool water over it and returned to Steve's bedside to tenderly swab his forehead, his chest and his left arm before applying anti-itch cream While Becca was obviously far sicker, she still had only a few dozen spots on her face and neck; Steve was absolutely covered with them to where he almost looked sunburned. Jaime did everything she possibly could to make him more comfortable, then watched him for awhile as he slept before her own head drooped down to rest on the side of his mattress as she finally fell into a deep sleep herself, holding her husband's hand.

She slept through the night that way, and when Jaime woke with the first rays of sunlight shining through the cracks of the blinds, she got up to check on Becca...and found her bed _empty_! Michael had spoken of getting a chest X-ray first thing in the morning, so Jaime knew her daughter was down in Imaging - but she silently grumbled her annoyance that Michael or the techs hadn't bothered to awaken her, to accompany her daughter. Becca was _two years old_ for God's sake; she should've had her mother with her!

When Michael came in - _without Becca_ - Jaime couldn't hide her annoyance. ''You took her down there without even waking me, then the least you could've done is stayed with her so she saw a familiar face! Dammit, Michael, why would you -''

Michael put a steadying hand on her arm. ''Jaime...I was just coming to get her - _and you_, of course - to go down to X-ray.'' He saw Jaime's face go pale with panic and he did his best to calm her. ''The techs probably just saw the order and came and got her; I'll call down there to be sure.''

While Michael picked up the phone to call Imaging, Jaime was already rousing Steve from his deep slumber. She hadn't been listening to the phone call...until the next thing Michael said sent her sinking to the floor in shock and grief.

''_Call Security; we need the entire facility in lock-down until we find her_!''

* * *

Jess had gotten very, very lucky. After the first two times she managed to slip away from her assigned floor to peek into Becca's room, Jaime had been right beside the little girl's bed. She was about to give up and try again the next night...but when she looked in just once more, Jaime had moved across the room, next to her husband's bed...AND she was sound asleep! Jess knew this was a sign; _it was time_. She'd moved silently to Becca's bed and began to scoop the child into her arms. Becca had awakened at least partially - but Jess put her finger to her lips and smiled, signifying to Becca that this was a secret to be shared just between her and her favorite nurse. She was still half-asleep when Jess picked her up and carried her over her shoulder, straight out of the room, pulling the IV pole along with her other hand. Jess moved quickly and silently into the stairwell that was just a few feet down the hallway; thy were less likely to be noticed there.

''Mama...?'' Becca murmured from Jess's shoulder.

Jess set her down on her own two feet and held her fingers to her lips again. ''I'm taking you home, Darlin' - and it's a surprise for your Mama so we have to be very quiet. Okay?'' Jess bent down and kissed the little girl's forehead. ''Shhh...'' she reiterated.

''Shhh!'' Becca parroted.

They had reached the second floor landing before Jess had put Becca down. Then she looked through the little glass window. No one was in the hallway; perfect. ''I know you hate this thing,'' Jess whispered, reaching down to remove the IV needle from her arm. She had (stolen) medicines in the car; the last thing they needed was to lug an IV pole out the door and into the parking lot. ''Stay here,'' she told Becca. ''I'll be right back.'' Quickly, she opened the door to the second floor and stuffed the IV pole and bag into the supply closet that was just a few steps down the hallway. She grabbed a surgical cap and a flannel sheet, closed the closet and returned to where Becca was obediently waiting in the stairwell.

Jess knelt down to Becca's eye level and smiled. ''We're gonna play dress-up!'' Jess told her. ''I know you love to do that!'' She placed the cap on Becca's head, taking care to tuck every bit of her hair inside, then she swaddled her in the flannel sheet, picked her up and put the child over her shoulder again. ''Let's _do this_, Baby,'' she whispered in Becca's ear. ''Time to go _home_!'' She moved rapidly and surreptitiously down the last flight of stairs, through the back hallway...and out to her car.


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The last few times Becca had seen her, she'd practically danced with excitement, singing out her name: _Jessi! Jessi!_ Not today, though. The feverish little girl was stretched out on the backseat while Jess drove - and she wasn't saying much at all, except for occasionally murmuring ''Mama''. This was disappointing.

''You'll feel better soon, Baby,'' Jess promised her. ''We're almost home - and once we get you into your own bed and get your medicine going again -''

Becca heard (and understood) the word '_home_'. ''Mama...?'' she said again hopefully.

Jess ignored the question and hit the accelerator a little harder. It was nearly daylight; they'd be waking up soon and realizing Becca was gone. Jess had a good, solid hour's head start on them, though. She was glad she'd never told her co-workers about the cottage. Even if they figured out right away that she was the one who'd taken the child, they'd never think to look for her there...in a place no one knew about! They would really have no cause to suspect her, but if for some reason they did, she'd been careful to make it look like she'd had every intention of returning home that morning. She'd left the coffee on a timer so it would be fresh and hot - and a lunch she had no intention of eating was simmering in her crock pot. That would throw them off, at least for a little while

They would probably check all of the local hospitals (and their emergency rooms) for a very sick little girl...but Jess had no intention of taking her there. She'd been able to scout out that Becca had pneumonia and had even stolen a look at the treatment plan Michael had drawn up. Working at Clayton and being on-shift and in uniform had helped with that - and had also given her access to everything she might need to treat Becca at home. An IV set-up and all of the requisite meds were in the trunk. And who better to nurse the child back to health than an RN? An RN whom Becca would soon learn to call 'Mama'...

* * *

''She's not in X-ray...'' Jaime fretted, ''and she's not here. Oh God..._somebody took her_!''

''We don't know that, Sweetheart,'' Steve said in an attempt to soothe her. ''Maybe she woke up early and decided to walk down and visit the nurses; after all, that's what she's used to doing in a hospital.''

''Dragging her IV pole behind her?'' Jaime cried. ''And even if that happened, she's obviously not at the nurses' station! That means...she's _lost_! Our baby is either lost and wandering...or somebody took her!'' Jaime was rapidly approaching hysterics. ''Either way, she must be SO frightened!'' She sank down to the floor again, her body wracked by heart-wrenching sobs.

Michael did what Steve could not. Gently, he lifted Jaime from the floor and then held her firmly by her upper arms, gazing straight into her eyes. ''Stop it!'' he told her. ''This isn't helping us find your daughter. Steve is too sick to be out of that bed -''

''Wanna bet?'' Steve countered.

''We can't have you running through the hospital covered in measles,'' Michael told him, before returning his full attention to Jaime. Normally, if she was this upset - crying so hard that she couldn't catch her breath - he might consider sedating her. This time, though, they didn't have that option. Michael tightened his grip on her arms and pulled her closer to him, making her look him in the eyes...and there was anger there. ''_Becca needs you_!'' he said forcefully. ''Now, we're going to find her. We've closed off all the exits and Security is combing the building...but they may need your help. You need to calm down,'' Michael insisted. ''_Becca_ needs you to calm down...so you can help her!''

* * *

Jess turned in and made her way up the long driveway that snaked nearly invisibly through the trees. ''We're _home_, Baby,'' she told Becca. She pulled the car back behind the cottage and parked, then opened the rear door, picked up Mr Floppy Ears from the car floor (where Becca had dropped him) and placed the stuffed rabbit in Becca's arms. ''Let's get you and your rabbit into your nice, soft bed so you can both rest,'' Jess told the child before popping the trunk to retrieve the medical supplies. When she came back around to the open rear car door, Becca still had not moved. She was lying on her side, too weak and dehydrated to cry, still whispering one word.

''_Mama_...''

* * *

Oscar had to be notified - and he arrived quickly. ''What about Morrisey?'' Jaime asked him. She'd taken Michael's advice and pulled herself together, with her sole intense focus on finding her child. ''Revenge for Steve busting him, maybe?'' she suggested.

''Frank Morrisey's been cleared,'' Oscar told her. He nodded to Mark Conrad, who'd slipped quietly into the room. Whatever was going on - and whoever had taken Becca - Jaime was going to need him. Oscar remembered what Steve had once told him, about the reason Jaime had hesitated to become pregnant even though she'd wanted a child so badly. She'd been afraid that their child might one day be taken, in retaliation by criminals they'd helped put behind bars. ''The group Steve investigated overseas had no way of knowing he has a daughter,'' Oscar concluded (hoping to at least eliminate that fear for her).

Suddenly, Mark stepped forward. ''I think I may know who took her,'' he announced.


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

''Well, who is it?'' Jaime asked. ''Who has my daughter?''

''Her favorite nurse,'' Mark announced somberly.

''Jess? But..that's crazy!'' Jaime gasped.

''If she's harmed so much as one hair on our daughter's head,'' Steve said from the doorway, ''I'll unleash a brand of 'crazy' on her that would make Hell seem like a picnic!''

''Aren't you supposed to be in a hospital bed?'' Oscar questioned. He could see why Michael had thought it was best for Steve to stay upstairs recuperating; the man looked like one solid raised measle, with his right arm startling in it normalcy.

''Why would I care about some damn red dots - or even starting an epidemic - when Becca is missing?'' Steve crossed the room to wrap his arm around Jaime's shoulders. She was trying her best to be brave, to stay focused and help in the search, but she was also trembling either with fear or with the strain of keeping her emotions in check. ''Especially when I know how to find her.''

''Steve...how?''

''Remember when you were worried about _this_ happening - and I suggested a tracking chip?''

Jaime nodded miserably. ''And I told you 'no'.''

''I think this is one time you won't be upset that I went against your wishes,'' Steve told her.

''You put a tracking chip...in your child?'' Oscar marveled. At various times, Steve and Jaime had both turned down having tracking chips placed in their bionics, calling the concept 'Orwellian'.

''No, of course not. But I did the next best thing. And I did it behind your back, Sweetheart - because you'd already told me 'no'...but I've just been down to Rudy's lab. He's activating the chip as we speak. Oscar, we need to rally the troops because even if he does get a reading, it'll still be something of a search, especially if they're on the move.''

''Every man I've got is at your disposal, Pal,'' Oscar offered.

''Steve...where _is_ the chip?'' Jaime wondered as they all hurried down to the lab.

''Well...''

* * *

Jess got the new IV started and then pulled the soft patchwork quilt up. It was light enough for California weather but with enough substance to offer comfort. She tucked it around both Becca and her bunny and kissed the child's forehead. ''Are you hungry, Baby?'' she asked.

''Noooo...''

''Mama will make you a nice piece of toast. You need to try and eat for me...please?''

''_Mama?_'' The word got Becca's attention and seemed to perk her up at least a little. ''Where is Mama?''

''Well, I'm right here, Baby. Mama's right here.''

''No! _Mama_!''

''I know you'll feel better once we get some food into you,'' Jess said, beaming at 'her' child. ''You hold onto Mr Rabbit and I'll be right back.''

''Fwoppy Ears...'' Becca said very softly once she was alone in the strange bedroom. She hugged the beloved stuffed rabbit close while she waited for her Mama - her _real_ Mama.

Instead, it was Jess who returned again. Becca's eyes filled with tears. Jess ignored this (because missing the 'mother' who'd given birth to her would be normal at first) and propped extra pillows behind the child, helping her to sit up. She handed Becca the toast - and whether it was out of fear or some remnant of the Terrible Twos (or quite possibly both), Becca threw it to the floor.

''No!'' she rasped, coughing again.

''Now, that's not how good girls act,'' Jess chided. ''Still not feeling so well? Let's get your temperature.'' Since Becca was still so young, taking her temperature required at least some cooperation on her part...and the last thing she was feeling right now was cooperative! She was used to having Jess take care for her, but not like this. Finally, Jess had to abandon the notion. Becca was quite obviously feverish; the exact number was unimportant. She pushed more of the fever medicine and the bronchodilator through the IV, then perched on the edge of the little bed and took Becca in her arms, leaning the child's head against her should and gently rubbing her back.

Becca went rigid at her touch. ''It's okay, Baby,'' Jess soothed. ''You're still little; you'll forget all about 'her' soon enough.''

* * *

''The chip is activated,'' Rudy announced to the gathering group. ''And I'm trying to hone in on a signal.''

''Thank God the kidn...'' (Jaime couldn't bring herself to say the word [i[kidnappers[/i]) ''...the _person_ who took her had enough of a heart to let her take Mr Floppy Ears.'' Steve had chosen the rabbit both because it was Becca's favorite (she never went anywhere without it) and because the toy's fat tummy and lush fur made it easy to hide that anything had been done to it. ''Maybe they won't hurt her! Please God...don't let them hurt her!'' Jaime sobbed, burying her head on Steve's shoulder.

''If it _is_ Jess who's got Becca,'' Mark said, doing his best to try and keep Jaime calm, ''at least she wasn't taken out of spite, vindictiveness or a desire for revenge. Jess really does care about her -''

''Great way of showing _that!_'' Jaime cried.

''We know she won't hurt Becca. And Becca knows her...so she's not with a stranger. Cold comfort, I know, but it's something you can hold onto for now.''

''The signal's too faint; I can't get an exact location,'' Rudy told everyone, although he kept trying. ''They're out of the 60-mile radius -''

''Already?!'' Jaime gasped.

''But not by much - or we wouldn't be getting a signal at all.'' He began passing out portable receiving units to the hastily-assembled groups of men.

''Start fanning out,'' Oscar instructed. ''As soon as any unit gets a stronger, more definitive signal, we'll move in.'' He stepped over to where Steve was holding Jaime close. ''You can ride with me,'' he told them. ''Let's go find your little girl!''


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The 'mom' in Jess was growing frustrated - and the 'nurse' in her was growing _worried_. Becca was still listless, feverish...and _fussy_. It didn't seem like the medicine had brought her temperature down, although she was at least breathing a little more easily. She clung tightly to the old stuffed rabbit, rejecting the dolls and teddy bear that Jess had provided for her - and her glazed eyes spoke of much more than missing her mother. The child was _miserable_.

Suddenly, Jess had an inspiration! She went into the other room and then returned wearing her nurse's uniform. ''I need to take your temperature,'' she said firmly, in her best 'no-nonsense' voice. This time, Becca complied. 103.8. It was down a little bit from the last temp Michael had noted in her file - but not nearly enough. The meds weren't helping the way they should, or perhaps the car ride had aggravated her condition, but Jess knew she had to get that fever down - and fast. The IV was helping to keep the little girl hydrated and Jess checked the dosage of the antibiotic and the bronchodilator. Becca continued to clutch the stuffed bunny and Jess tried removing it from her grasp and placing the brand-new teddy bear in her arms instead...which was met by a wheezing, gasping howl of protest.

''Alright, here,'' she sighed. She gave the child the beloved toy back...but vowed to remove it (as the last connection Becca had to her 'old parents') at the earliest possibility. Then Jess retrieved a cool compress from the kitchen and swabbed Becca's face and arms with a tender touch, singing to her softly until the little girl finally relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

She waited at Becca's bedside until she was sure the child was more deeply asleep, then she carefully removed Mr Floppy Ears (replacing him with the teddy bear), took the stuffed rabbit out deep into the woods...and _buried_ it!

* * *

They couldn't pinpoint a location yet, but at least they had a direction - and every one of Oscar's multiple units began heading Northeast. Oscar's car (with Jaime and Steve in the back seat) was the fastest in the fleet, with the most experienced driver, so they were of course in the lead. The signal became stronger as they headed into the hills, in an area heavily lines by trees on both sides of the highway and with a dozen or more dirt roads and paths leading mostly to nowhere.

''We're close,'' Steve said again, his eyes and ears glued to the receiver. _We're coming, Peanut!_ he thought to himself. _Daddy's coming to get you!_ They got the strongest signal as they drove past a section with no turn-offs where the forest seemed even denser...and then the signal began to fade. ''Pull over!'' Steve told the drover. ''Go back!'' As soon as they'd reached the area with the strongest signal again, Steve threw open the car door and began a bionic run into the trees - at least, as fast as the fever and his own condition allowed.

''Steve - wait!'' Oscar called into the datacom. ''You've got the receiver!''

''Then wait for the next car and follow me!'' Steve called back. It would only be a matter of minutes before more teams arrived (with more receivers) but those were minutes Steve just couldn't wait; Becca was out there somewhere - and she _needed_ him! Jaime stayed close behind, with her ear peeled for any signs of their daughter.

All they saw were more trees, the forest growing even denser the further they got from the highway. Jaime could hear more cars screeching to a halt as help finally arrived. She kept up with Steve even as she listened to the growing rescue efforts. Michael was on a datacom, giving their location to a waiting medevac chopper - and trying to direct them to a clear, safe landing position where they could wait for further instructions. Mark was with one of the first teams to head into the woods. He called on his own datacom trying to find Steve and Jaime, sensing (correctly) that whatever they might find, they were going to need him - and so would Jess, if she was here.

Steve managed to get a little further ahead of Jaime, still following the signal from the chip inside Becca's stuffed rabbit...and then he stopped. ''Oh no...'' Jaime heard him groan. ''Sweetheart, stay where you are,'' he warned.

Jaime stopped in her tracks, but only for a moment. Mark had just managed to catch up when Jaime, eschewing the datacom, started calling out to Steve, stubbornly trying to find him. (Did he have Becca? What was he _doing_?) ''Steve?'' she called again.

Steve's voice was shaking...and it terrified her. ''I mean it, Jaime; stay back!'' he ordered.

Something in the tone of Steve's voice made Mark grab Jaime's arm. ''I think we'd better wait here,'' he said gently.

''You stay here if you want!'' Jaime cried, pulling away from him. ''That's my _daughter_ we're talking about!'' She heard Steve on the datacom, calling for all units...and requesting an excavation team. _An excavation team?!_ Jaime made her way through the thickest section of trees...and then fell to the ground, sobbing in despair. Mark caught up to her quickly and reached for the sedation needle he carried in his pocket. This time, there was no question she was going to need it.

_Steve was standing next to a patch of freshly-turned earth._

- - - - -


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Jess listened carefully with her stethoscope; Becca's lungs were horribly congested. She wasn't responding to her medications. When she woke, she hadn't noticed that her rabbit was gone. She didn't even plead for her mother. She just looked up at Jess with a look that clearly said _help me_. She took the cup of water that Jess offered her but could only manage a tiny sip that went down accompanied by a pain-filled whimper.

Jess had a decision to make. Clearly, the child needed more help than even an RN could offer her. She needed a _doctor_! Was there someone Jess could call for help who wouldn't turn her in to the authorities (who would then, of course, take Becca away from her)? _What about Michael Marchetti?_ she wondered. Yes, Doctor Marchetti would come - and he'd bring every cop in the state of California with him! _Mark Conrad?_ He was a possibility. He was 'only' a psychiatrist, but he'd had medical training...and he might agree to come confidentially. _Maybe._ Jess didn't want to be caught - and she didn't want to lose 'her baby' - but she didn't want Becca to _die_ either!

* * *

''Get Jaime out of here!'' Steve told Mark. The therapist could see Steve's own shoulders were shaking as he started to frantically dig into the dirt at his feet...and came up with Becca's stuffed bunny.

''_NOooo!_'' Jaime howled in grief. Mark stuck the needle into her arm and the powerful drug began to course through her system immediately. Then, just as the drug took hold of her, Jaime's body stiffened (instead of relaxing). ''My baby!'' she cried.

''Let's get you back to the car,'' Mark said gently as he helped her to her feet.

''No; you don't understand!'' Jaime insisted. ''I...I _heard_ her! I heard Becca! Steve, she's here -!''

''I know, Sweetheart,'' Steve said brokenly. Finding the bunny had convinced him that Becca was gone - that she was also buried there - and that it was only Jaime's grief talking.

''Listen to me!'' she cried, fighting her way out of Mark's grasp again. ''She's here, somewhere close by - and she needs our help!''

Finally, Steve _got it_. He keyed up the datacom. ''Oscar, have your units fan out and look for a service road, a driveway -anything! They may be close by!''

''They ARE close by!'' Jaime sobbed. She could barely walk, with what Mark had given her, but somehow she made her way to Steve, took the dirt-covered rabbit from him...and cradled it in her arms. ''Becca...'' she whispered, trying to tune her ear in to any signs of her child.

Within only minutes, they had a partial answer. ''We've got a house!'' a unit reported.

''Coordinates, please!'' Steve demanded. ''Mark, stay with Jaime for now,'' he requested, still unsure of what they might find. Then he started through the trees, intending a full-out bionic run in that direction, but only made it a few yards before he collapsed, his own fever (and a body covered with measles) preventing him from going any further.

''There are dozens of men in the area, most of them moving in around that house,'' Mark assured both Austins. ''We need to trust them; they'll get her out. Let's get back to the road so a car can take you up there. That'll be the fastest way to get to your daughter - for both of you.''

Steve nodded - and struggled to his feet, then painfully made his way to where Jaime was still cradling Mr Floppy Ears. Tenderly, he took her in his arms. She leaned into him for support and - with Mark wondering whether he might have to either catch them both or call for stretchers - they started back toward the road.

Over the datacoms, they heard Oscar's orders. ''Keep your weapons holstered unless absolutely necessary; there may be a small child in there. I want every point of egress covered before you move in.'' He was waiting for them (Mark having alerted him to their struggles ) and Oscar and Mark quickly got both Austins into the back seat, then the car pealed away toward the well-hidden dirt road...and the house. Jaime was very nearly unconscious and Steve wasn't much better off, but when the car pulled to a stop and they saw the G-men in formation surrounding the house with their daughter inside, somehow they were both fully alert. Mark had all he could do to keep them both in the car...for now.

''Move in - NOW!'' Oscar ordered. The front and back doors were battered in simultaneously as more units moved to cover every window. There was radio silence for a few minutes - for too long - as the G-men moved through the house. When the news came, it wasn't over the radio. Knowing Steve and Jaime were both outside, one of the lead men came out personally.

He shook his head as the back doors of the car flew open. ''They were here,'' he said quietly. ''We found medical supplies, including an IV bag and pole...but the house is empty.''


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

''That's impossible!'' Jaime insisted tearfully. ''Becca...I _heard_ her! She was just here!''

''It may have been just wishful thinking,'' Mark told her gently. ''Or grief.''

''Tell the excavation team to start digging,'' Oscar instructed.

''NO! She was _here_ - just a few minutes ago! I...we...just missed them...'' Jaime concluded. She got out of the car before anyone could stop her - and stumbled toward the house.

Steve followed as she went through the kitchen. Jaime picked up two little bottles from the sink. Becca's fever medicine and cough syrup. ''She didn't even take these with her!'' Jaime cried with new tears. As she went down the hall to the back bedroom and saw the child-sized bed with a teddy bear abandoned to one side, she nearly collapsed. ''Oh Steve...'' she sobbed. ''That..._woman_...couldn't even let her take the bear! And she doesn't have Mr Floppy Ears either!'' Jaime was still cradling the stuffed bunny close to her chest (as her only link to Becca). No one had the heart to try and take it away from her. ''She must be so frightened!'' Jaime lamented.

Steve had no answer except to hold his wife in his arms, in a vain attempt at comfort. ''At least Jess is a nurse; she knows how to take care of a sick child,'' he offered softly.

''How? By taking her off the IV and leaving her medicines behind? Some nurse she is!''

They both knew without having to say it that their daughter's situation was dire. While measles in itself was not serious, pneumonia _was_. Becca was with someone who knew how to administer treatment...but who had now chosen to leave those means of treatment behind. That told Jaime and Steve that Jess was no longer in her right mind - and their daughter was in grave danger!

* * *

Becca wouldn't stop crying. ''Baby, you know me - it's Jessy!'' Jess said, trying to soothe her as she drove. She'd packed a long, dark wig (to cover her short red hair) and a floppy hat to put on in case they'd had to flee from the cottage. She'd just never expected to need them this soon -or for this reason - and when she'd put them on just before going into the bedroom to carry Becca to the car, the child hadn't recognized her. She couldn't pull over to try and calm her. Not now; there simply wasn't time! The nearest hospital was still 10 miles away! And Becca's crying was making her gasp for air with badly congested lungs, turning a serious situation into a true emergency. It was a good thing then, what she was doing.

How could Jess make Becca understand? ''Baby...please listen,'' she began. (She would, of course, be changing the child's name once she'd settled on one that suited her...but this was not the time.) ''You _have_ to calm down...stop crying. You're making yourself sicker. Becca...it's Jessy. You know me...and I'm gonna take good care of you, Baby. First we have to get you to a doctor. Then we'll go home and get settled...''

She realized Becca was listening to her - and whether it was actually what she was saying or just the act of trying to listen - the sobs were quieting somewhat. So she kept on talking, when what she really needed to do was be quiet and think things through, she tried to keep up a stead patter instead...for 'her daughter'. ''You'll like it there, Becca; I promise you will. Next Spring, I'll plant flowers...I know how much you like flowers. Maybe a vegetable garden too! And...maybe Mommy will get you a dog!''

It was the _wrong_ thing to say! Becca sniffled hard, then... ''Where is Mama?'' she asked, breaking into a fresh round of tears. ''Want my Mama!''

''Baby, I'm gonna be your Mommy now.''

''NO! Want! Mama!''

Jess could hear from the sound of her breathing that things were fast becoming critical. She had no other choice. She pulled the car into a gas station and grabbed the emergency inhaler from her purse. Becca was really too young for it, but it was all she had. She'd thought they'd be making the 10 or 15 minute trip straight to the hospital - but now she had to try. She climbed into the backseat and cradled Becca against her chest then, trying to time it exactly right, pressed the button on the inhaler in between the child's gasps once...then twice. It seemed to help, but Becca was still crying as if her heart was broken. Finally, Jess tore off the hat and wig and threw them in the front seat. She'd have to put them back on in the hospital parking lot but for now, 'her daughter' needed to see the bright red hair she was so familiar with, to recognize the nurse who had cared for her since birth.

It worked. Becca _finally_ quieted. As she looked up at Jess, Jess smiled her widest smile at her. ''Good girl. Feels better that way, huh?'' Then one more thought occurred to her - one she should've had long before now! There might already be an APB out for her, if they'd figured out that she was the one who had Becca. They'd be looking for a young woman with short red hair (the wig took care of that) and a little girl whose hair was long (as long as a 2-year-old's could get) and blonde. ''Your hair! We have to cut your hair!'' Jess told her. She hoped the gas station, with a tiny grocery store attached, might have a scissors. ''You wait here, okay? Just close your eyes and rest - and I'll be right back.'' Jess headed inside and luck was with her - she found a scissors and a package of rubber bands to put Becca's hair into a couple of very short pony tails after she cut it (to hide any uneven, hurried work with the scissors). She made her purchase quickly and headed back outside.

There was a squad car with its lights flashing, pulled up next to her vehicle...and a police officer looking through the window into the back seat!


	32. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

In her disordered mind, Jess truly believed that with a good explanation she could be back on the road again - and her brain scrambled to find the _right_ one. An accomplished criminal would've turned back into the store and run out the back exit, leaving Becca behind and making a break for freedom...but Jess did not. ''Oh, Officer - thank God!'' she gasped, rushing _toward_ the situation instead of running away. ''My little girl...she's sick...and we're on our way to the hospital!'' She climbed into the drivers seat and used the bag with the scissors inside to push the wig to the floor (in the hope that the officer hadn't seen it) then kicked it under the seat.

''I need you to step out of the car, Ma'am,'' the officer told her.

''I can't do that; my child needs a doctor!''

''Step out of the car NOW - or I will remove you!''

Jess turned the key in the ignition...and the officer yanked the door open and grabbed her left arm, pulling _hard_ and taking her out of the car before she could shift into reverse. He whirled her around to face his squad car and pushed her up against the hood with far more force than was necessary. ''Both hands on the hood where I can see them!'' When Jess didn't instantly comply, he pulled both of her arms forward onto the squad car himself while his partner began searching her for weapons.

''Officer, you don't understand!'' Jess insisted wildly. She took her hands down as she turned to face him, to explain. ''I'm taking her to -''

Both officers grabbed her and threw her to the ground on her stomach, yanking her arms behind her back and locking handcuffs on her wrist. ''...to the hospital!'' Jess finished, still trying to turn to look at them. ''I'm taking her to the hospital!''

''Face down - and don't move again!'' the officer shouted. ''Here - I'll help you!'' He turned Jess's head by force and then let it drop to hit the pavement, where he held it there while his partner got back on the radio. ''This is what happens when you don't follow directions,'' he growled at Jess. ''And especially when you've kidnapped a sick little girl!''

''_Kidnapped?_ No! I...she's my daughter and -''

''You have the right to remain silent,'' the officer began to intone.

In the car, the radio air had been cleared for his partner's broadcast. ''Requesting an ambulance to this location and advise the OSI we have their APB suspect...and the little girl.''

Within minutes, it seemed that every available squad car in that part of the state came flooding into the gas station parking lot, followed by the medevac chopper, which hovered until the way was clear. They'd stopped to pick up Michael once the search teams were leaving the cottage and they'd been about to return to a midway waiting point - were already in the air - when the call came in. A second chopper was dispatched for Jaime and Steve, to get them both to Clayton as fast as possible - Steve for treatment and for both of them to be with their daughter.

Meanwhile, Jess was loaded into the back of the original squad car and most of the lot cleared so the chopper could land. Michael stood ready and waiting at the door hatch to be the first to get to Becca. He would be the first person who actually _knew_ the child to arrive on the scene and confirm for everyone (especially for Jaime and Steve) that the little girl in Jess's car was really Rebecca Austin.

Michael didn't even wait for the skids to hit the pavement. As soon as it was safe to do so, he jumped from the hatch and ran to the car. What he saw...was heartbreaking. The child, who didn't know a single soul from all the faces that were suddenly surrounding the car, was sobbing incoherently. Strangers were calling her by name but she was too young (and too frightened) to be able to confirm her own identity. The crowd of police officers and State Troopers parted to let Michael through...but he needed them to back away further.

''It's her! Get everyone out of here who doesn't need to be here!'' he called over his shoulder. Then he leaned into the back seat where Becca could see him. ''Sunshine, it's me - Doctor Michael,'' he said gently. ''Do you remember me?''

Becca stopped crying but was still gasping for air as she focused on his face...and nodded.

''I'm going to take care of you now; you're going to be okay.'' The medics had reached the car with a stretcher but instead of letting her have strange hands reaching for her, Michael scooped her up himself and placed her gently and carefully on the stretcher. ''Don't jostle her,'' he told the medics, ''but _run_!'' While he ran for the chopper himself, Michael keyed up his datacom. ''We've got her. It's Becca! We're heading for Clayton! More news as soon as we can!'' Then he boarded the chopper himself, where the medics were already starting an IV with the bronchodilator he'd pre-ordered. As the chopper rose into the sky, he began examining and treating his young patient, who responded almost immediately to the medication and began to relax now that she could breathe and focus on a familiar face.

''Let's get you back to Mama and Daddy,'' he told her with a smile.

Back where they were about to board their own chopper, Jaime and Steve fell into each other's arms...and smiled too - for the very first time all day. Then, once they were aboard and their chopper took off (headed to meet the other chopper at Clayton), they waited anxiously for more new...any news...about Becca's condition. When word finally came, it was from one of the medics:

''Doctor Marchetti wanted me to let you know he'll have to speak with you at Clayton Memorial. Right now, he's working on your daughter. Her condition has improved since take-off... and I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you for now.''

Steve and Jaime looked at each other and once again, fear filled their eyes. What did _that_ mean? Hopefully, Michael was simply giving Becca his full attention and that was why he hadn't radioed a message to them himself. Hopefully the reason wasn't more serious than that...

- - - - -


	33. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

''Why didn't Michael call us himself?'' Jaime wondered.

''I'd rather he spend the flight taking care of our daughter,'' Steve said simply. ''He sent word - and they said Becca's already improving - so that's good enough for me...for now...''

It would have to be. And since further speculation would only make them both feel worse they let the subject drop for the rest of the short flight, even though their daughter was uppermost in both of their minds. It had been less than a day since they'd seen her - but it felt like the longest day of their lives and they were absolutely bereft without her.

Finally, they arrived at Clayton. As they stumbled weakly out onto the roof, Steve and Jaime's eyes were drawn to the other chopper, already sitting to the side ...empty. Rudy waited for them at the entrance, with a gurney and a wheelchair. Mark helped Jaime into the wheelchair and Rudy motioned Steve to the gurney but Steve shook his head, already opening the door to head inside.

''You look awful,'' Rudy told him bluntly. ''Let me check you over and then -''

''And then nothing, Rudy,'' Steve insisted. ''First, I need to see Becca. After that, you can do your worst to me...but my daughter comes first.''

''Steve!'' Rudy said, following along behind him, ''you're about to drop. If bionic legs are barely holding you up -''

''Where's Becca?'' Steve requested. ''How is she, Doc? Have you seen her?'' Steve's focus was singularly on one subject now and he wouldn't be dissuaded.

''I saw her for just a moment, when Michael wheeled her inside. From what he told me, when he first got to her, she was critical.''

''Oh no!'' Jaime gasped.

Rudy placed an arm on her shoulder as Mark wheeled her down the hallway. ''She's responding well to the medications, Honey.''

Jaime suddenly realized where they were headed...where Rudy was leading them. ''She's in the ICU?''

''Probably just overnight, a a precaution,'' Rudy told her.

There was a cubicle inside with the curtain drawn, where they saw a rush of activity and knew that their daughter was at the center of it. Michael met them at the first set of double glass doors before the inner ICU hallway (and the cubicles). He saw Jaime barely upright in a wheelchair; she'd obviously been sedated and was doing her best to fight it off. And Steve, standing next to her, was leaning on the chair for support to keep from falling over. They were truly the walking wounded. Michael gave them both a reassuring smile.

''She's going to be alright,'' he told them. He could feel the anxiety rush out of them both like air from a popped balloon. ''I won't lie to you; it was pretty bad at first. Gave me quite a good scare, but once we got the right medications into her and she saw someone she knew, she responded well to the initial treatment. And she's finally stable. That was why I stayed with her on the chopper; she needed to see a familiar face to keep her calm until she could see the two of you again.''

Steve stepped forward to shake Michael's hand. ''We understand,'' he affirmed. ''Michael..._thank you_.''

Jaime began trying to struggle to her feet. ''I don't want Becca to see me in a wheelchair,'' she insisted, even as four pairs of hands all reached out to keep her from falling.

''She's seen that before. It won't faze her,'' Michael promised. ''Right now, all Becca wants or needs to see are your faces.'' He turned to Steve. ''And after that -''

''Yeah. I know,'' Steve answered. Rudy would slap him back into a hospital bed...but Steve's heart longed for one thing first. Michael held the door and Mark pushed Jaime into the cubicle with Steve by her side. Everyone filed out to give the family at least a few minutes of privacy.

Becca looked even smaller, lying in the adult-sized ICU bed. Her eyes were closed but she gradually roused as she seemed to sense who was _finally_ with her. Tears of happiness and relief glistened in Jaime's eyes - but her smile was radiant. ''Hi, Sweetie,'' she said softly.

''Mama...'' Becca whispered, as though not quite believing she was there. ''Daddy...''

''Hi, Peanut,'' Steve said in a voice choked with emotion. ''Daddy sure is happy to see you...''

* * *

Jess fought against the officers as they transferred her into Federal custody. Even with her arms cuffed behind her back, it took two officers each with a firm grip on one of her arms to contain her.

''You still don't understand!'' she lamented. ''Why aren't you listening to me? Alright, so she wasn't my daughter...but I was taking her to the hospital! I was trying to do the right thing...'Cept _you_ wouldn't let me!''

She was placed in a holding cell, with the Federal officials resisting the urge to shove her onto the bench...and still she continued to rant. ''It wasn't my fault, you know! She was sick when I took her!''

''Ma'am, if I were you, I'd be exercising that 'right to remain silent', right about now!''

''Why won't anybody listen to me?'' Jess was still persisting as the officers locked her in and walked away.

* * *

It was hard to tear Steve away from his daughter's side, but it needed to be done. The doctors were able to at least wait until Becca had drifted off to sleep, to the sounds of a lullaby sung in surprisingly decent harmony by two loving parents who (by the looks of them) shouldn't have even been able to hold themselves upright any longer. ''Want me to come with you?'' Jaime offered.

''Stay with Becca,'' Steve told her. ''She needs you more. Hopefully by tomorrow we can be in the same room again.''

''You'll need a course of preventative antibiotics,'' Michael replied. ''Since Becca's pneumonia looks to be bacterial - and your immune system is compromised by the measles - you're at high risk for coming down with it yourself. With luck, we can head it off at the pass, and at the very least, lessen its severity. But given that, there's no reason why you shouldn't be able to have your 'roomie' back tomorrow. And Jaime, you'll have two patients to contend with at home before you know it, so rest up.''

Jaime smiled. Soon, Steve would be back to whining at the slightest cough while Becca sat next to him - the sicker of the two but giggling as they watched The Flintstones together. Both sounds - the giggle _and_ the whine - would be music to Jaime's ears. She could hardly wait!


	34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

''Thank you!'' Becca said brightly. Jaime could tell by the wheezing raspy sound of her voice that she still felt pretty rotten, but her spirit had definitely improved since being allowed to come home from the hospital that morning. Once again, she was being allowed to recuperate in the big bed with her Daddy and it seemed to have made a huge difference already. The haunted look had left her eyes (at least for now) and she even managed to flash Jaime a smile before dutifully draining her juice.

''It's SO good to have you home, Sweetie,'' Jaime told her. ''And you too, Mr Grouchy Bear.,'' she said to Steve. ''Drink your juice, please.''

''My throat hurts,'' Steve grumbled. While Becca had never developed more than a sprinkling of measles across her face and chest, Steve still looked like one solid measle, three days after the kidnapping.

''Your daughter is sick too - and she's already finished hers,'' Jaime pointed out. ''Right, Becca? You showed Daddy how to do it, huh?''

Becca giggled - music to Jaime and Steve's ears - and clutched Mr Floppy Ears to her chest. Becca had asked for the big gray-and-purple rabbit (with his fat fuzzy tummy and ridiculously long ears) the first night in the hospital, while she was still in the ICU. Jaime had made a very fast trip to the toy store and was lucky enough to find an exact duplicate. She roughed the toy up a little bit (so it didn't look so new) and she was sure Becca wouldn't know the difference.

Jaime was wrong. Becca had taken one look at the newly-purchased substitute and set it aside. She looked at her mother with a very Jaime-like set to her jaw and a perfectly-quivering lower lip. ''Where is Fwoppy Ears?'' she'd asked sadly.

Becca had been through so much; if she wanted that silly old bunny, she deserved to have it! Jaime really had to scramble, first to locate the bunny (it was still on the chopper she and Steve had ridden to Clayton) and then to dispatch a very cooperative agent to brush the dirt away and then wash and dry the toy. When Jaime handed it to her daughter, all of the extra effort had been worth it. Becca clutched him to her chest and whispered ''Thank you,'' managing a tiny smile in spite of the trauma, the IV and the bright lights and strange noises of the ICU.

Michael had consulted with a top pediatrician, with Mark Conrad and with a child psychiatrist before allowing Becca to go home. Even though she was still quite sick, the initial course of IV antibiotics had worked quickly to stop the pneumonia from spreading any further through her lungs and she had 'graduated' to an oral dosage instead. The doctors had all agreed that what she needed most after such a profound trauma was to be surrounded with as much familiarity as possible. So there she was now, beside her Daddy in the big bed, showing him just how one was _supposed_ to drain one's juice cup. The cat was curled up at her feet and the next episode of The Flintstones started in just a few minutes.

''Drink your juice,'' Jaime told him again, ''or no Flintstones for you, Mister!''

It seemed that life was finally returning to 'normal' again...but was it? Becca had awakened from her afternoon nap whimpering softly, with tears in her eyes. She didn't quite have the verbal skills to voice what had happened to her, so at this point there was little that Jaime and Steve could do except simply be there for her, warmly reassuring her and letting her know that she was _safe_. Mark, in conjunction with Liz Warren (the child psychiatrist), would work with Becca, using play therapy to help her deal with emotions and fears that no two year old should ever have to know about. But that was in the future. In the present (and most importantly) she was back beside her Daddy, with her Mama taking care of them both. A nurse was there to help if needed (at the insistence of _all_ of the doctors) but she stayed in the background (at Jaime's insistence) so the little family could heal together - and heal each other.

''Juice, Daddy!'' Becca giggled.

''Oh now, that's just not fair - the two of you ganging up on me like that! You're on my side...right, DC?'' he asked the cat.

''_Steve!_'' Jaime chided. (Whatever they ended up calling the cat, it certainly wouldn't be the initials for 'Damn Cat'!)

Steve shrugged. ''Cat's been here two years and that's the only _consistent_ name he's had!''

''He's got a name, Steve,'' Jaime reminded him.

''What? After a movie star you've got a crush on? If you're gonna name him after a crush, then his name should be Steve - and we can't call him that, so DC suits him just fine.''

Jaime turned to their daughter. ''Becca, what's the kitty's name?''

Becca looked at the cat, then up at the TV, where her program was just starting. ''Fred!'' she said definitely.

''Becca has spoken,'' Jaime laughed. ''I guess 'Fred' it is!''

Becca had one more thing to say. ''Juice, Daddy!''

Steve sighed and gave in to the wishes of the two most important people in his world. He drank the juice in one gulp then grinned at Becca. ''Yabba-dabba-doo,'' he told her.

''Yabba. Dabba. Doo!'' Becca parroted back to him. Then ''Yabba-dabba-dooooo!'' to her mother...and another to Fred for good measure.

Life truly seemed - _finally_ - to be returning to normal!

END OF EPISODE


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